


Strange Fates

by dragonswithjetpacks



Series: Aeva Lavellan - The Wolf Hunter [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dragon Age Spoilers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Slow Burn Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonswithjetpacks/pseuds/dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: It felt like her mind was on fire, the inner pieces of her torn between breaking apart and setting the world a flame. Unwilling to snuff it out, Aeva drove herself to the brink of madness. She was forced to resign her way of fury. And went back to her familiar faces; the people she loved. But the world does not stop when ancient enemies arise. And the movements she makes are silent. Unknown to world above, she is tasked with moving a piece of her past. She must carry it, along with her regret, across the Free Marches. But her friends refuse to allow her to accept this burden alone. A well known person of interest is asked to act as her guardian to ensure she is not driven further into the same rage she once held. Though... she does not know his true nature. Somehow, terrified that the depth and the darkness while consume the fire inside her, she still finds herself at peace with him. She finds that perhaps the only ones who can comfort her... are those who have felt the flame as well...
Relationships: Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Fenris/Female Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Series: Aeva Lavellan - The Wolf Hunter [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037817
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. The Bridge that was Built

**Author's Note:**

> After reading through many of the comics and a few chapters of Tevinter Knights, I was having some pretty heavy thoughts about Inquisition. And then, a Tumblr post made me think about pairing Aeva and Fenris. So, here I am. Writing a story about them traveling to Kirkwall together. Now, please, if you see any discrepancies in the timeline or story information, tell me! I did my best to do my research but I get distracted easily and tend to jump from subject to subject. I also have a good chunk of the story planned out, just haven't gotten the chapters written up. So if you enjoy this, leave a comment or a kudo. I am more inclined to finish the story if I know others are looking forward to reading it. :3
> 
> Update: Hey guys! I noticed a few of you throwing Kudos! Much love! If you want to follow my Tumblr account (also dragonswithjetpacks), you can see updates and WIPs. I have a WIP of chapter four up right now. Just head over and search Strange Fates! Also, if you go directly to my blog page, click on characters, you can see the lovely Aeva in action. Thank you for your support!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Along the Imperial HIghway, there is a bridge that connects the borders of Tevinter and Nevarra. Just on southern side, a quiet town sits with a dark history of raids and arson. It is there Dorian meets with Aeva in secret. He leads her to a meeting in an old back shop to discuss the matters of an important mission. Awaiting them are Varric Tethras and his long friend, Fenris.

The anxiety had grown to be all but intimate. Impatience was usually the culprit who introduced it into her mind. The unknowing intent was what kept it stirring. Like a fish in a bucket, circling the familiar waters with foreign walls. It kept her trapped, more so with her own thoughts than anything. And it left her without an outlet, a way to release the tension that was built beneath the lump in her throat. Aeva was never one to fidget as a way channel the uneasiness that overcame her. She was fond of finding other ways. And when she didn't, she had the tendency to become aggressive.

"The fact that you've cornered me in Nevarra just so you can drag me into this hall of despair is enough," she huffed, running a finger down the soot covered wall. "This is proven to be ridiculous."

"As if your wooden shack of self pity was doing you any good?" Dorian retorted, clearly fed up with her poor attitude. "I cannot give you any more information than what I was given. But I assure you, this is important."

"More important than what's happening in Tevinter?"

"Aeva," this time, he stopped, turning on his toes to face her. "If I knew, I'd tell you. You know that."

"Right. Because you've been great at communicating these days."

Dorian sighed, reaching out his former friend with a gentle hand placed on her shoulder. The months had been long and the silence from his end was noted. There was no guilt from him, as he felt there was nothing he had done wrong. But the pain he had caused her was at last worthy of an apology. Though it was not the time or the place. A man of words and memories, he knew there would be a time he would owe Aeva a moment of sympathy. If there would ever be one. It wasn't here. He gave her a light pat, his mouth tightening into a small smile before he turned back around and continued down the hall. Aeva followed begrudgingly. The sight of the door came into their view at last, much to Dorian's disliking. Calming Aeva was much like stopping a landslide at the base of the mountain. The majority of excitement had already happened and the preparation of what to come was a combination of wishful thinking and bracing for impact. No one was willing to explain this to the former Inquisitor, however. And so her bully of a personality remained intact during most occasions. Though Dorian had to admit, when it did not come in handy, it was at least mildly entertaining to observe.

* * *

"You're sure we were supposed to meet here?" he asked over his shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure," Varric shrugged. "This was the place I marked on the map. Only abandoned building left this stable."

"Why do I feel like I'm wasting my time?" the elf rolled his eyes, glancing back down to the flame dancing in the small brick oven next to him.

"Anything that doesn't consist of swinging a sword is considered a waste of your time," the dwarf chuckled against the wall.

Fenris crossed his arms, resting his shoulder against the mantle. There were many other things that required his attention. Things that did not consist of sitting in contempt waiting in a room while inhaling dust and smoke. His initially response was a firm refusal. But Varric had insisted his compliance was necessary. There were also mentions that if Fenris did not agree to meet him Nevarra, Varric would personally come to him and drag him south. In which case, Fenris agreed to spend one, and only one, evening to entertain his ideas.

"We'll give them a little more time," the dwarf rocked on his feet, his hands resting on his crossbow as he used it as a prop.

"I was under the impression that was what we were already doing," Fenris grumbled.

"I'm sure our friends had a difficult time getting here. If my memory serves me right, she's just as stubborn as you are."

"They're late," his voice was on the verge of raising from irritation.

"Fashionably so, I'm afraid," a boisterous voice entered the room abruptly after and obnoxious creak from the door.

The inhabitants of the room turned, witnessing first the sway of silk robes adorned by a graceful man. He gestured briefly, yet politely with his hands as he presented himself before them. Appearing behind him dressed in rugged leather was the infamous Aeva Lavellan, yet another brooding elf with a sulking demeanor and a tongue not so eager to speak. As she crossed through the threshold into the dank room, her eyes scanned across it briefly. It was a ruin of a room with broken chairs and tables that had not been bothered to be pushed to the side. Her gaze stopped, cold and unyielding the other elf in the room. The hard lines on his scowled face suddenly softened, his green eyes wide as he caught her staring from across the table. There were no words, just a simple acknowledgement through a series of blinks while surveying one another. She was just as others described. Hair deep red like autumn trees. Her face was clear, smooth in places where there weren't any scars. Her mouth were bent into a rigid frown, but he could make out the creases on the corners where dimples would appear when she smiled. And through the dark, despite her being feet away, he could see the yellow flecks in her green eyes. His eyes wandered around her leathers, down her cloak, and caught the glimmering metal beneath. She was no stranger to the fascinated stares of those who saw her arm and she brushed the cloak aside without shame so he may study it openly.

If there were any words that she wanted to speak, they were cut short as Varric bustled to her side. But his attention was not on her at all. As she looked down at him, he was already taking her arm into his hands gently, turning it over as if it were a mysterious puzzle that he would more than likely never solve. But he so desperately loved to try.

"Is this Bianca's work?" he questioned through cautioned breath.

"It is," Aeva replied dully.

"Then her visit was worth while," he rose her hand closer to his face. "I hadn't heard anything from her. Or you."

His stern gaze fixated upward now to her stone face. A small smirk slipped through, just enough for a small crease to form. It was the first time he had looked up at her since he forced her into hiding. Back then, her anger had only grown. She was never happy about submitting herself fully to Red Jenny. And she didn't seem any happier now. Still, the communication had remained steadfast with letters streaming in of both the secretive and the polite kind. They liked to remind each other not so often of friendship, but of their intentions to come. If there was one thing Varric liked to keep around, it was his connections.

"It's a fine mechanism. But I commissioned Dagna to do a little something special," she added just as he noticed the runes etched in the sides.

"What an atrocious contraption," Fenris said quietly as he caught sight of the cursed etchings.

"It truly is," the woman recaptured his attention. "But I haven't got much of a choice."

The metal shimmered as Varric let it slide through his grasp, turning to face his other comrade.

"Fenris, this is Lady-"

"I know who she is," Fenris stated calmly, his eyes never leaving her.

"Just Aeva, then, if you please," she stated.

"A pleasure," Fenris bowed slightly. "The word of your fires burning in Orlais have been a popular topic in Tevinter."

"Is that so?" her eyes shifted hesitantly to the dwarf, who both loved and hated the tale.

"I admire your passion for vengeance, though I feel you lack some discretion," he gave a witty smile.

Aeva raised and a brow and Varric simply... sighed. His hand patted her slightly on her side, as if he were about to sending a child to boarding school. There was an uncertainty looming above him. Either this was an excellent idea... or a very ... very ... bad one.

"You two are going to get along just fine," he said with a nervous smile of his own.

"Alright," Dorian interrupted. "This is Varric. And Fenris. I am Dorian. Now that this lovely introduction is done and over with, let's get to business."

"I agree," Fenris re-assumed his position with crossed arms.

Aeva, usually crossing her arms herself, suddenly had no inclination of what to do with her hands. The previous months had been filled with secret meetings and yet, this one was quite different. This wasn't like ducking into abandoned warehouses with Sera. Or dipping onto closed balconies. It felt as if there was more weight to it. Memories of the war table came rushing in. Her heart beat faster with the fondness of it's nostalgia. With a breath, she held it for a moment as her mind began to swirl. The whispers were faint, but they were still picking at her thoughts. Concentrating on the room around her, their voices faded. And she could see her friends again. 

"Where do we start?" Varric asked.

"There's a clear connection here," Dorian lifted a hand. "We should somehow coordinate these movements."

"What do you mean?" Fenris shifted slightly.

"I've been part of an underground organization," Aeva spoke. "And you... have as well?""

"It's not organized enough to be an organization," he shrugged.

"Contacts," Varric nudged him. "We talked about this. You have _**contacts**_ _."_

"And we need those contacts to start correlating," Dorian leaned forward.

"I don't like this," Aeva stated firmly. "I'm better on my own."

"You had your way and it didn't work," Varric made a downward notion with his hands to calm her down. "It was hard enough to make you disappear after your rampage in the Exhaulted Planes."

"I can't imagine how difficult that was. Is it true you took out every statue in Orlais?" Fenris asked out of both curiosity and concern.

"I certainly tried," Aeva's voice was enthused. "There were some places I couldn't set charges. So I defiled them."

"Defiled?"

"She cut off the head of the wolf statues. Can we _ **please**_ continue the meeting?" Dorian began to grow irritated. "If I'm away from Tevinter longer than a day, the council begins to discuss who will inherit my dining ware."

"Perhaps Red Jenny could be of some use?" Aeva suggested, attempting to cut herself out as a contact all together.

"What's a Red Jenny?" Fenris lowered his brow.

"It's complicated," Aeva, Dorian, and Varric said in unison.

"That might work. But... that's a large network. Too many hands. Too many hands we don't know," Varric disagreed once again.

"I'm not even sure what we're supposed to be discussing to begin with," Fenris ran his hand through his hair.

"We're discussing how to correlate our efforts. The easier the communication is between us, the less likely we'll have to continue our meetings in lovely hovels such as this one," Dorian explained. "Cutting out further exchanges through third parties also reduces the risk of our efforts being discovered. This meeting was supposed bring two links together."

"There's too much back and forth."

"They do this all the time. You get used to it."

"Look, Aeva," Varric sighed, leaning onto the table. "We're all involved in this. Whether you like it or not. You'll have to accept that we need each other's help."

Aeva looked at her dwarven friend, shifting over to Fenris who seemed very unmoved by the statement. It was clear he did not want her help, either. She placed both her hands on the table, slowly moved over them to where her face was closer to Varric's, and smiled.

"No."

"What do you mean _**no**_ _?"_ he was starting to get angry.

"He doesn't belong anywhere but Tevinter. And I've got to keep moving if I want to find him. "

"This is beyond you, Aeva. Stop being so stubborn."

"Then let him handle it," she nodded to Fenris.

"I'm busy," he grumbled under his breath.

"Well that's too bad," Varric heard him, spinning around and glaring at the corner where Fenris stood. "Because I need both of you."

"Ask someone else," Aeva's voice rose.

"I _**can't**_ ," Varric's eyes were wide.

"Shut up, both of you," Dorian said calmly. "Before you alarm someone that we're in here."

Aeva shoved herself away from the table, causing dust to rise into the air like a light fog. The hand of the dwarf waved it away, pacing over to the fire where he hung his head. What tension had filled the room eventually dissipated as silence replaced it. Though something still lingered. 

"It's about the mirror..." Varric straightened his coat.

"The mirror," Aeva spun around. "The mirror that was sent to Cumberland?"

"That mirror," he nodded.

"The mirror that was supposed to be locked away? And studied so that I may use it for future purposes?"

"That's the one."

"What about... _**the mirror**_?"

"I didn't send it to Cumberland," he rose his head, his mouth a straight line.

"Varric..." Aeva's eyes flickered.

"It came with me to Kirkwall. I sent it to Merrill."

"You did _**what**_?" Fenris pushed himself off the wall.

"We need to relocate it."

" _Fendehis,"_ Aeva hissed. " _Fendehis lasa_."

Aeva pointed furiously at him and began to pace around the room, elven words spilling from her mouth that Dorian could barely make out.

"If there is anyone who can tell us anything about the eluvian, it's her," Varric defended himself. "I didn't want to tell anyone because I didn't want to put that knowledge in danger. The only people who know are Merrill and myself."

" _Ma harel lasa!_ _Dirthara-ma... Ma halam.._." Aeva was storming the room, various Dalish phrases coming from her mouth.

"But we've got to move the mirror. And soon."

"I will move the mirror," her words cut through gritted teeth. "And it's not going to Cumberland. Clearly I can't trust anyone. It's going back to my people."

"Your taking the mirror to the elves?" Dorian straightened to himself.

"I'm taking it to Wycome."

"I don't think it will be safe in Wycome," he said while also trying not to upset her further.

"I know someone there who might be able to examine the mirror. Once you get back to Tevinter, be on the lookout for someone who can study it. I will wait for _Arlathvhen_. It's quite possible I can recruit someone there to look into this further."

"It's settled then," Varric waved his hands.

" _ **We**_ are not finished here," her head snapped back to Varric.

"Well... I had every intention of not returning to Kirkwall." Fenris said, listening to them speak without having any input. "But it sounds like I'll have to make an exception."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aeva's translation... roughly...
> 
> "Curses.... Curse you...." : She's basically saying "f you".
> 
> "You lied to me! You will learn... end you..." : She's stumbling over her words at this point with fury. What she's trying to say is, "You lied to me. You will learn not to go against my word. I should have ended my connections with you."
> 
> A/N: Aeva will often go on elven speaking tangents when provoked. And I would like to think she knows a bit more elvish than most because of her days spent in elven ruins in her adolescence. And also because she drank from the well.


	2. Knowing Strangers

If she just closed her eyes, it felt like riding in the back of the aravels. The sound of the hooves, the clattering of the barrels bumping one another, the rocking back and forth under the brown canvas top. It was all a reminder of how lonely she felt as a child, sitting alone on a wooden floor with only the company of flour sacks and vegetables. Of course she had tried to argue that the wagon was not the best cover for her circumstances, but Varric stated it was what his company had to offer. Fenris, on the other hand, was permitted to go ahead of the caravan. The idea was laughable to Aeva since she had been a scout herself and could do far better remaining silent in the underbrush of the forest. Still, she had to admit her ears did not pick up the sounds of the elf at all. Which was surprising considering the weight of his sword. Then again, the thought of Fenris sitting in the back of cart with her was rather amusing. Varric didn't even bother suggesting it, knowing there wasn't a chance the stubborn man would even slightly agree. She brought her knees up to her chest, feeling her legs grow anxious from being still for too long. Setting her chin upon them, she stared out through the small sliver of what she could see of the forest outside. The tension rose in her chest as she thought about what happened before they left the small Nevarran village. Sodding Varric... how could he...

 _"Easy, Aeva,"_ she could still hear him trying to calm her down.

_"The **one** thing I trusted you with."_

_"It's safe, it's still safe. For now. But that's why we need you to go-"_

_"What do you **mean** **for now**?"_

_"There... was a bit of a break in."_

_"Varric," her voice had calmed down, but only for the sake of their secrecy._

_"We made easy work of the lot. Don't worry. I thought I'd have an expert examine it for a time. We were lucky we didn't have it."_

_"I wouldn't call her an expert,"_ Fenris had grumbled.

 _"But they know it's in Kirkwall,"_ she cut them off.

_"Again, that's why we need you. Both of you."  
_

The last time Aeva's eyes had watched the shimmering of that cursed mirror, it had felt like she woke from a nightmare; cold, panting, and laying on the floor with a blanket of sweat. Completely aware it was the last night it would stay in Skyhold, she had gone to gaze upon it one last time the night before. When she woke in a state of panic hours later, she swore she would never look at it again. Not until she knew it was safe. That she... was safe. But that was no longer the case. The mirror was not safe, not while it was sitting in pit of sin somewhere in Kirkwall surrounded by the most unruly mages of Thedas. Varric was a fool for placing it in the heart of the previous mage rebellion. And he was even more foolish to believe there were not risks in leaving it in the alienage. The thought of it hidden somewhere in a run down shack on the dusty streets of Lowtown made her chest boil. She stretched her legs out, anxious once again, tightening her shoulders as sh attempted to stretch them against the low wall of the wagon. It was creeping up again; that small tingle that liked to snake it's way through her body. Sometimes it started in her chest. In that moment, however, it was her lower back. The urge to run was more of an alarm screaming inside her head. To run ahead of the caravan. To run to the mirror. To run away from Varric. And Fenris.

_Fenris._

Aeva crawled to the edge of the cart, looking around for the eleventh time since they left the small village. There was no one behind her. Her body stiffened as she made herself still. Her eyes saw no movement of a person tailing the wagon through the trees in her sight. Her ears focused on sounds that were further away. A few fluttering footsteps of small critter, but nothing bigger than a deer. All she had to do was open the canvas flap. Her feet were light and her body even lighter, so no one would notice the shift of weight in the back of the cart. The crew were ahead with the wagon at the front. And no one was currently watching the supply wagon she had been resting in. Perhaps they thought she was enough to guard it? Again... more foolish thoughts. It was one foot dangling off the back that tempted her. But it was the last and final shout in her head that told her to go. She ran.

* * *

There was a certainty that fell over Fenris as he realized he was nearly a few hours ahead of the caravan. It was never his intention to move faster than the horses. However, after being left alone wandering in the wood with his own thoughts, he couldn't convince himself to slow his pace. Not that he ever thought he would be in a hurry to get to Kirkwall for the rest of his life, but that was precisely the case. The flashes of the streets in Lowtown pushed him faster. More so, the image of the helpless alienage was troublesome. There were times he had to stop himself as he caught his feet rushing into a light jog. His inner thoughts managed to persuade him to calm his eager steps. Still, the questions circulating through his thoughts would distract him and he would once again begin to increase his speed. _What was Varric thinking?_ No one ever knew what Varric was thinking. Varric was a man of action, but also a man of tact. There was a reason for this. _Why didn't he tell anyone?_ The fewer people that knew about the mirror, the better. _Why wasn't Aeva informed?_

_Aeva._

Fenris paused for a moment to glance over his shoulder. The trees were thick enough to block him from view, but his eyes could still make out the edge of the road. He was too far away to hear the familiar squeak of the wagon. Stuck between being too far from the village and the wagon, he decided to press forward. If he managed to get to the village before anyone else, it wouldn't be an issue. There wouldn't be anyone who could confirm exactly how long he would be waiting for their arrival. Besides, the sooner he could reach a resting point, the sooner he could mull over the situation in Kirkwall.

 _"Kirkwall isn't safe for it anymore,"_ he recalled Varric saying.

_But when was Kirkwall ever safe?_

As if the fall of the Circle, the free mages, and the lingering magic in the Gallows wasn't enough, now Kirkwall had an alienage at the brink of rioting. The elves, especially the elven mages, didn't need to be that close to something that powerful. If Aeva was right, they would be the first to be corrupted. Fenris was never one to turn down a good plan with a high risk, but Varric put too much faith in the hands of others. Hands that were known for their lack of delicacy. And with the talk of his new comrade discussing elven knowledge, he knew it would still be dangerous to have someone like Aeva in Merrill's ear. Getting to Kirkwall first was a thought that turned into a strong feeling. There was no trust among him and the crew behind him. And with the hired hands along with Aeva, he knew they would be safe. He wouldn't be missed. He could get to the mirror. Do what needed to be done. Then go back to Tevinter to finish what he started. Not a soul would discover him until he was already gone.

However, as he neared the village that stunk like shems too close to the bigger cities of which he wanted to avoid, he thought it best to remain undecided. As much as he questioned Varric, he was the only one that had something close to what Fenris called trust. For tonight, he would remain in the leagues of the smugglers and merchants, if only just to read them. And to decipher _**her**_. Discover her intentions. Even observe her persons. The better he could read her, the more he could decide just how useful she would be in the future. That is, if Varric was correct in maintaining their... connections. It was the least he could do to give them an inkling of a chance. Besides, following the road through the forest to Kirkwall sounded far more appealing than trekking across the Vimmark Mountains.

The small village he entered was as foul as the last. It was small. Some would call it quaint. It was as any village close to a major city. Bustling with people on the streets attempting to sell useless things to travelers passing through. Not drawing attention became a priority when he suddenly realized the travelers were not as many as he would have liked. The folk on the streets would target him immediately. And even if being recognized was not an issue, he still was not keen on the thought of talking to strangers. Stepping over to a path on the side, he diverted from the main road. His eyes were up looking for any sign of a shop or a tavern. A few feet down the way, down a muddied path with patches of grass, he saw a deck built loosely around a tavern with posts scattered around it. It appeared there were no horses tied to it. And with no one roaming about, he figured it was empty. Glancing about his surroundings, he found that it was the only the building with a sign above the door. It was the only place available to him... unfortunately. He walked up the side ramp of the poorly built deck, scraping his boots off the side before he opened the door. It swung open with a load creak and drew the attention of everyone in the room.

"I was wondering how long it would take you," a voice said coyly below.

His attention shifted from the center of the room to a table by the door. Smiling slyly while sipping a goblet of deep red wine sat a red headed elf. The caravan had been abandoned.

"You were supposed to stay with the rest of the crew," he grumbled, looking around the room.

Aeva shrugged in response, clearly too busy to look up from the brim of her cup. The room they were in was small, more than likely leaving the rest of the building for a kitchen and some beds. The windows were currently covered by shutters, more than likely from the massive amount of rain the area had seen. It left the tavern warmly lit by lanterns, making it all the more cozy in it's small and whimsical nature. Aeva was one of not two patrons preoccupying the bar keep. The other customer had acknowledged the new arrival, but did not seem slightly interested. The keep, who was leaning on the barrel behind him, simply gave a nod.

"You couldn't have picked a more inconspicuous seating arrangement?"

"Oh," she turned in her chair. "You mean the table close to the kitchen door or the stool at the bar?"

Again, he grumbled, but sat across from her at the small table regardless. It was large enough for maybe one plate, but it was clear the establishment was not a place for fine dining. There were nicks covering the top as if someone had bounced coins off the surface numerous amounts of times. Or perhaps stabbed a small knife into it repeatedly. It was difficult to tell as the stains were many and varied in color.

"You shouldn't worry so much," her voice was cool and smooth. "I've already taken care of it."

"What... do you mean?" he eyed her suspiciously.

"We're mercenaries," she sat down her goblet and leaned forward. "Just a few hired hands waiting for our charges to meet us at a rendezvous point."

"You don't think they'll recognize you?"

"We're in Nevarra," she snorted with a sideways glance. "I'm nonexistent compared to a Pentaghast."

Fenris blinked unknowingly at her. The condescending tone did not help him feel any more comfortable traveling with her.

"I still think it would have been better for you to remain with caravan," he crossed his arms in his usual manner.

"Better or just more convenient for you?" she questioned with one brow raised.

"Both," he muttered loud enough for her to hear, but low enough to make his aggravation known.

"First of all," she sighed, picking her goblet back up and swirling it around. "I want you to know that generally, I don't usually take being spoken to like that lightly. _**Don't**_ coddle me. The decisions I make are for my own well being."

There was no attempt to mask the rolling of the eyes from Fenris.

"Second, I'm not going back in that wagon. Period," the glare coming from her was almost piercing. But she subdued it briefly so that she may take another drink from her cup. "Besides, as long as we act the part, neither one of us will have to hide in the back of the wagon as we cross over into the Free Marches."

"I don't think we'll be that lucky."

"Luck isn't part of this," her stare was hardened again. "We act smart and we'll get through."

"Do you think being in the open like this is smart for you?"

Aeva let forward a tenacious smile, her teeth gritting beneath her lips. "What are they going to do? Attack me in the middle of the day in a tavern in front of all these people?"

Fenris didn't have to look to know her sarcasm meant the total of the two others in the room. His face remained unmoved and he was incredibly unhumored by her hostile demeanor. For a moment, she was silent as well, not waiting for a response as she knew she would not receive. But just holding his gaze, not fully knowing what it would accomplish. Then, as it become almost unbearable to look at the other for any long, she leaned forward, her face softening.

"Look," she said softly this time, her eyes shifting to the table. "There are a lot of terrifying things in my life. And there isn't a lot I'll back down from. But the one thing I'm afraid of... is not of flesh. And I doubt it's coming for us now."

With that, she rose up, the back of her legs pushing the chair and creating the sound only wood on wood could make. The cup was lifted delicately with her long fingers, brought to her lips, and as she downed the remainder of it's contents, she looked at Fenris beneath her. He remained solemn, like a stone. With a nod to end their exchange, she sauntered over to the bar for a refill. Watching her was like watching a fire dance around the wooden logs it consumed. There would be a moment a log would shift, and the fire would tease the grass below. Sometimes it wasn't grass at all, but the bottom of someone's foot. In that moment, the one stoking the fire would have to decide whether to inform the partaker that he was too close to the fire or just simply stand by while it happened. Aeva was the flame that did not shy away from catching one's boot on fire. And Fenris... well, he was never one to get in the way of a good fire.

 _"You've got to hear me out Fenris,"_ Varric had pulled him aside just as he was leaving. _"All Aeva has ever known is being on her own. Even with the Inquisition. She's always been ahead of things. And since this... rampage she's been on, it's been hard for her to trust anyone. Playing well with others isn't exactly her thing. But trust me... give it time, and she'll ease up. And if anyone can understand what she's going through... I have a feeling it's you."_

The games he watched people play with one another to avoid someone's feelings was something Fenris didn't indulge in. He never understood why things couldn't just be simple. Why others hid their true nature. Why someone couldn't be honest with him. But when Aeva leaned in close to him, he could see that fire behind her green eyes. They sparked the yellow flecks in them and he could feel her rage. It was the most honest thing about her. And he knew that rage well. With a large sigh, he walked to the bar toward his companion.

"Pour me one as well."

* * *

It had appeared the caravan was behind schedule as the sun slowly started to set over the eager village outside of Cumberland. Through many goblets of wine, the two deduced they had been chatting for a few hours. Mostly about their conquests, very little about their previous lives, and all with a humbleness to them. Their mutual acquaintances had informed them of just enough for them to be aware of the other. So the subjects to avoid were quite clear. Still, there were awkward pauses and subtle shifts in comfortability from time to time. Which lead to a glass going down quicker followed by yet another trip to the bar. On the other hand, there were conversations that lead to a stand still where time was irrelevant and their goblets were no longer needed.

"Dragons," Aeva's eyes were glistening. "Oh, yes. I am quite familiar."

"You can't beat that feeling," Fenris shook his head.

"You most certainly can't. Such wondrous things, aren't they? There came a point I no longer want to kill them anymore. Especially after the Guardian."

Her eye lids dropped as she looked down at her hands, her thoughts drifting toward the battle with Corypheus. It was then Fenris noticed the hint of red spreading across her cheeks. The woman was a lush. And he guessed she had been for years. 

"But then," she sighed heavily, "a god possessed the body of a beautiful high dragon in the Frostbacks. It was a shame to put him down."

"You know some in Tevinter call you the God Slayer. I can see why," he watched her carefully.

"Two down... one to go," she chuckled to herself, taking the goblet to her lips and downing what remained. "I hope."

The uncertainty in her voice did not match the confidence on her face.

"That's a bit morbid of me. I apologize. I'm not trying to pull any pity out of you," she shook her head. "It's just this... war... and no one even knows what is happening around them. They think it's mindless chaos. And those of us fighting against it are stretched thin. It's a strange feeling knowing there are others out there. Like us. And that we can relate to these insane things without ever having a chance to meet."

"This world has a way of doing that," he looked down to his own empty goblet, thinking about the wondrous people he knew with their own incredible feats.

"It would have been nice to be oblivious," she nodded back to the bar keep who was intent on polishing the countertop while waiting to refill their drinks.

"It makes you wonder if it was our choices that brought us here... or perhaps there is a cruel fate weaving us all together."

"What?" Aeva's back straightened, taken by surprise at his statement.

Fenris remained quiet as something else caught his attention.

"It's not important," he frowned. "The caravan is here. We should greet them."

The sound of voices she had heard that same morning followed by the sloshing hoof-steps of the horses entered the clearing in front of the tavern. Fenris was the first out the door, strutting down the ramp to help tie the horses to their respective posts. Aeva reluctantly followed, leaning against the door frame to observe them. The smuggler who was steering the wagon she had hidden in jumped down from his bench, catching himself just before slipping into the mud. With cheeks red and brow furled, he marched up to Fenris with his arms flailing.

"I don't know where she's gone, but-"

"She's already here," Fenris cut him off without looking up from tying the reins.

"Here? In the open? Does she think she can do whatever she-"

"She does," he stood up suddenly. "And I'm not going to be the one to tell her otherwise."

It was really quite impressive to her to see him standing so straight to shem. Elves were smaller by nature. Though, some elves were a bit taller than others. It was rare, however, to see an elf look larger than a shem. But Fenris... with his straight back and broad shoulders... he looked quite massive. Aeva grinned wickedly and Fenris said nothing else. He finished tying the horses, checked the rations in the back of the wagon, and spoke to one of the other smugglers briefly before stating he would sleep in the wagon that night. The others came into the tavern, giving her a glare or two as they crowded in. The keep welcomed them, though very distressed, and was eager to take their coin. Aeva, however, was still keen on watching the other elf. He hoisted himself into the wagon and his shadow displayed him leaning against the back of the far wall. But she knew he wouldn't sleep. She knew because she probably wouldn't sleep, either. It's what happened to people like them. 

Strange people. In strange times.  



	3. A Hand at Improvising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The caravan presses on, eager to pass over Cumberland. With any luck, the road will bare them no trouble. Then again, who really has any luck?

The sun came up that morning hidden by a thick blanket of gray clouds. They would only get thicker the closer they traveled to the ocean, according to Fenris. He had suggested the cliff side route along the ocean. But the smugglers had talked him into a more familiar path, instead. If they remained in plain sight, it would not be questioned. Especially since they had traveled that way many of time before. Besides, a wagon on a cliffside wasn't exactly the best idea. In time Fenris agreed, although he was very adamant about getting to Kirkwall as quickly as possible. With that set in mind, he was out searching for food long before the caravan woke.

Aeva was the second out of bed. She had heard the wagon's slight creaking as he stepped off the back that morning. There wasn't much else to do but to wait for him to return or for the others to wake. So she sat at the edge of the wagon, checking the gears in her arm before snapping it into place. There was always a massive amount of pain when she connected it. It was worse when it was disconnected. It was a reminder to her. But the memory changed each time. She reached in her satchel for a small bottle of oil that Bianca had given her. It would keep her joints from stiffening. When she was finished with that, she touched each finger to her thumb, as Dagna had instructed, to insure the magic was still in place. It moved like a real hand. As much as a machine would, at any rate. There were still issues with coordinating her weapons like the reflex being slower. But no amount of extra training would change that. And she eventually would have to adjust her timing.

"I don't think I'll ever see anything like that again in my lifetime," an older man, the leader of their smuggling crew, sat beside her on the wagon.

"Consider yourself lucky you won't have to."

"Nah," he scrunched his face and shook his head. "I'm just as lucky to have seen it with my own eyes."

"If you say so," Aeva shrugged.

The man chuckled before holding out a hand. "Ferguson."

She took it firmly, allowing him to give it one good shake before he released.

"And of course I know who you are. I wanted to apologize about my man's behavior yesterday. Fenris was right. You're allowed to make your own choices."

"Thank you," she shifted in her seat.

"You've saved the world how many times, now? I think you'll be alright."

Aeva smiled at his nonchalant tone. "Where are you from?"

"I'm a Free Marcher through and through."

"Is this the first time you've left the Free Marches?"

"Oh, no," he chuckled. "I've been to Antiva more times than I can count. I've even been on a ship or two. But I always come back, as one does when they call somewhere home. Do you consider the Free Marches your home, Inquisitor?"

Aeva narrowed her eyes at him. It was strange to hear the title again. From time to time, the common folk's tongue would slip. There were even a few Chantry goers who still called her Herald. But she let it slide, for the most part. She no longer associated herself with those titles. Just like she no longer called Skyhold her home.

"I'm afraid I don't really have a home anymore, Mr. Ferguson."

"That's a shame."

"Not always," Fenris came around the corner, carrying a small basket of what looked like eggs. 

"Found some breakfast, have you?" Aeve stated as he set the basket down. 

"We've got plenty of provisions in the cart," the old man gestured behind him.

At the sound of the three chattering outside, several of the others woke, walking into the muddy clearing outside the inn. They cluttered around the wagon, wiping their faces and reaching into satchels for their own various personal needs. One by one, they glanced at Fenris who reached into the basket of eggs. He casually brought out a small dagger, poked a hole into the bottom of the egg, and proceeded to suck the contents out through the hole. Some made disgusted sounds while others just made faces. Aeva cringed, watching him wipe a bit of residue from his mouth.

"That's... I'm not doing that," one of the men shook his head.

"Oh, Maker's left tit," Ferguson brought himself to his feet. "Bring the blasted basket to the inn. We'll have the keep fry those things."

"What?" Fenris shrugged. "The sooner we eat, the sooner we can leave this forsaken village."

"I'm not doing do that either, mate," a pale elf woman patted him on the shoulder as she followed her boss into the tavern.

The crew trudged back into the building, dragging their feet and still tired without a shining sun to energize them. Fenris, annoyed but remaining quiet, leaned against the wagon in frustration. As the noise drained behind the closed door, he let out a loud sigh. Oddly enough, it was followed by a loud crack. He turned around to find Aeva, the bottom of an egg in her mouth as she cleaned out the yolk from it's shell. She swallowed, looked into the hole, and then threw the remains on the ground.

"Now that," she grimaced between words, "brings back a few memories."

* * *

The tops of the towers in Cumberland could be seen as the party hit the fork in the road to the south. The west road lead directly into the city. But the east road lead away from it, toward the Cumberland Circle, and into the mountain pass. The smugglers knew the route they were taking fairly well. They had only traveled it one before as it was the same road they took to reach Nevarra. Aeva was more than happy to be taking a more scenic path. She had hoped she would be gazing at tree tops by the end of the day. However, they would have to cross the border in order to get that far. Cumberland was the trading hub between the Free Marches and Nevarra. So it was not difficult to convince the locals they were simply a small caravan passing through. Even the guards were usually compliant. But as they grew closer to the Circle, they realized the guards had thinned. Just as they took the east road and could see both the city and the Circle in their sights, one of the smugglers who took the road ahead to scout came trotting back.

"We've got a problem," she said.

It was the same pale female elf from before. Her dark brown hair was pulled back tightly against her head, a band of leather holding it back. She spoke directly to Aeva, completely by passing both Ferguson and Fenris. 

"What's going on?" Aeva addressed her, quite used to other elves seeking her guidance.

"There aren't city guards at the border anymore," she shook her head. "The templars have taken over. Apparently, there's been a few apostates who have escaped and are trying to cross."

"Apostates? I thought the mages were a free people?"

"It's still a term they use for run away mages. I didn't get the details, but it sounds like they're in more trouble than just fleeing. I don't know if they hurt someone or maybe stole something. That information isn't being spread."

"Not templars..." Aeva sighed, know she would be recognized the second they lay eyes on her.

"Well," Fenris turned to Aeva. "Looks like we'll have to climb into the wagon after all."

* * *

It had been nearly a year since Aeva had been close to a man. There were not many thoughts of embracing one again. But when there was, it was usually softly under the moonlight. It most certainly was not under a heavy canvas blanket between five barrels in the back of a bumpy, squeaky, uncomfortable wagon. Fenris was close. So close, that Aeva would occasionally feel his armor poke her in the pieces of her body that were not covered in leather. And Fenris could smell that leather along with a hint of something else. Lavender, perhaps? With a hint of mint? It was surprising to him as Aeva did not seem the kind of woman to wear a fragrance. 

The wagon shifted, more than likely due to a root or a large rock interrupting it's path, and both Aeva and Fenris fell backward. Aeva's reflexes were fast, and she placed her arms behind her to catch her fall. Fenris fumbled next to her, falling into her lap and mistakenly placed his hand on her thigh.

"Sorry," he murmured as he sat straight up.

She peered at him in intrigue, not finding any trace of embarrassment or guilt. The man was nearly emotionless. Though, she was certain she had witnessed at least a few moments for herself. She wondered if that was how the others had felt upon meeting her for the first time. Aeva had always been silent. Unmoved. Disconnected. If it wasn't for the Inquisition, she would have stayed that way. But being with them and having been able to call them friends changed her. Empathy had somehow managed to find it's way into her heart. And she discovered she had a sense of humor. She thought about what Fenris had said back at the inn. About fate weaving people together. Not realizing she was staring, she turned away when Fenris glanced at her from the corner of his eye. The cart bumped again, and they lifted from the seat, knocking their heads into the barrels around them. 

"Hang in there," one of the smugglers said outside the canvas, their voice deep and raspy. "We're getting closer to the border. Seems to be a lot more traffic this way. Wheels are digging rivets in the road."

"Just a few more miles," Fenris said under his breath.

"Aye," the man had heard him. "So it's best we all quiet down for a bit."

And quiet it became. The only sound the elves made inside the wagon was the occasional thump from the rocking, casting one of them too far to one side. Eventually, the two had decided placing their hands on the floor behind one another was enough to support them, preventing further noise. It wasn't more comfortable, but rather practical. Before long, they felt the cart stop and heard voices around them. They looked at each other intently for a moment of suspense.

"A merchant caravan?" one of the templars was quite close. "I don't think we were expecting anything like this today."

"Ah, we're not a a large merchant group. Don't require all the necessary paperwork like the guild does."

There was the same raspy voice as before. It must have been the dwarf, or so they gathered. Varric had spoke of one the members of the party being an actual merchant. An old connection from the Merchant's Guild. They heard him shuffle around in his large pack.

"I do have these, however," he handed the templar his ledger.

"Receipts?"

"Indeed," the dwarf stated proudly. 

He stood on his tip toes pointing to a signature in Ostwick.

"We usually deliver from Kirkwall to Ostwick. But business brought us this way for a bit."

"All the way in Nevarra?"

"Just some relics going from one Circle to another. I don't know anything about it. I'm just... well, the delivery boy."

The templar eyed the party, particularly Ferguson. The main had a bitter taste for authority. It was difficult to miss the scowl he was giving the armored men. For this, he was usually seen as suspicious. He leaned forward, reins in his hands still. His hair was a dusty brown with bits of gray. His eyes were dark, but there was still spark in them. Enough to rouse the templar, anyway.

"Let's take quick look, then," the sound of steps made their way around.

"My plan," Aeva whispered to Fenris.

"What?" he hissed back.

"We switch to my plan. They're going to find us back here."

"What if they don't?"

"They will. Now, help me. I have an idea."

"With what?"

" My arm," she said. "I need you to twist. Right here. And pull hard. Very hard."

"Can't you do this yourself?"

"Not without my tools," she glanced at her bag. "Now hurry!"

Fenris knew she was right. And he had no ideas to create an opposing plan good enough to get them by. Other than attacking, of course. In which case, he knew would be a poor decision. So without further hesitation, he grabbed her mechanical arm where she had pointed and twisted. There came the sound of multiple clicks in unison follow by a small puff of steam. Aeva winced, shutting her eyes tightly while she suppressed any sound. She was squeezing her own leg, making the leather crack under her grip. He carefully pulled the main machine from a plate that was connected to the remainder of her arm. It crackled as bolts of magic separated themselves from either piece of equipment. Realizing it was incredibly painful to her, he set his fascination aside to pull it completely from her. She let out a gasp when it finally came apart from her.

"Put that arm in that box," she said as she pulled her cloak tightly around her. "And sit close to me."

Doing the best he could not to stir the barrels around him, he tossed the heavy canvas aside. As he pulled it away, they noticed one of the smugglers was sitting in the back with them. His eyes widened as he mouthed a "What are you doing?" to them. Aeva ignored him, reaching over to grab a lump of coal from a bag nearby. She smeared it across her face, leaving a handprint on her left cheek. Meanwhile, Fenris clambered to the side to throw the metal arm in a wooden box in the back of the cart. It made a clanking noise, alarming the templars further. He could hear the dwarf outside attempting to reason with them, showing him more evidence of his trade with the Circles. The men refused to listen, however. And there was no more time to act as the flap opened wide to two templars prying into the covered cart. The male smuggler snapped his around, his mouth open wide ready for an excuse.

"Come on then, get-"

But the armored man froze. As the smuggler jumped from the back, his eyes saw Aeva and Fenris. Very well equipped. And very well armed. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, the flap falling briefly as he caught it with this other arm. 

"Excuse me," Aeva rose a hand to block the sunlight that blinded them.

"Who are you?" the templar demanded.

"Mercenaries," her answer was short and simple. 

"What are you doing back here?"

Aeva scoffed, looking at Fenris with disbelief. He was not going to follow suite. Instead, he stared at her. She would have to play this act out alone.

"I believe the man said we were transporting relics. Don't you think they might have some value? Bandits might attack the cart. I thought it was common to hire a hand or two?"

The templar glared at her, his cold blue eyes narrowing at her smirk. He lifted himself into the back of the cart, towering above them even as he bent his head.

"Don't move," he commanded.

The raspy voice from before made his appearance, very clearly the dwarf as they had assumed. He glanced at Aeva and Fenris, somewhat relieved that they had improvised their plan, and then back to the templar looking over the goods in the cart.

"It looks like produce."

"Rations to last us to Kirkwall. We plan to restock once-"

"What is this?" he kicked the wooden box, the arm shifting inside it.

Aeva sighed very loudly, catching his attention once again.

"I feel sorry for whoever you bunk with. They must get exhausted from repeating themselves. Since you refuse to listen."

"This is a relic?" he lowered his brow.

"I, uh, wanted to spare myself the embarrassment, but," the dwarf cleared his throat. "Yes... My charisma seems to be escape me these days. It's all I could talk them out of."

"I thought you didn't know anything about the relics?"

"Men don't know shit about women, but they know a good one when they see one," Aeva spoke faster than she could think.

"Ah," the dwarf cleared his throat, eyeing Aeva with a clear warning. "As you can see, my coin hasn't been enough to hire a _ **decent**_ couple of mercenaries. I can barely get them out to guard the whole caravan."

The templar took a careful look at the arm. Then back to Aeva. Then to Fenris, who somehow managed to portray both annoyance and emptiness in one stare.

"That one doesn't even talk, I'm afraid. Mute."

Fenris turned his gaze to the dwarf, grateful he would not have to speak. Deciding the cart and those within it were not worth the time to deal with any further, the templar stepped off the wagon, causing it to bounce once free of his weight. Aeva tumbled backward, Fenris catching her by the cloak quickly before it flashed her missing arm. She leaned against him for a moment as she scooted to regain balance. The look she flashed him was enough for him to feel her thanks. At least now, they would not be bound beneath the canvas sheet and began to move the things around them to become more comfortable. They would have to ride a few more miles out of sight before they could walk along the cart. The templars eventually signed the dwarf's ledger and in a moment of minutes, they were off again. Aeva could see through a small sliver in the flaps that the templar was attempting to describe her arm to the others. She chuckled to herself, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the canvas wall.


	4. Scent of the Huntress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mountain pass into the Free Marches left the caravan with a moment of peace. As the smugglers rotated rests, Aeva tended to her sore arm, and Fenris marched alongside the wagon. There was an agreement made they would not stop until they reached the forest. From there, the party would have to split. And Fenris is left to guide Aeva into Kirkwall.

Sunsets in the forest were rarely spoken of. But Aeva always knew there was something special to them. There was always a bustle about as the sun went down. Things were tucking away. Other things were just waking. The sound of singing bird and bug alike surrounded them. And when she looked up, the outline of the tree branches looked as if they were holding up a beautifully painted sky. It made her miss a lot of things. Most of all, it made her miss her sister. Being so close to her clan, however, she felt a bit of relief. They would see each other soon.

"I've, uh... I've got your arm, here," Fenris approached her, awkwardly holding her wicked machine.

Because of the way it had been torn off, Aeva had been feeling a lot of pain in her left shoulder. It would have been easy to put it back on. But she preferred to let her body rest before forcing the machine back onto it. Fenris didn't quite understand. But he had kept an eye on it nevertheless.

"That you do," she smiled while taking it from him. "Thank you."

Where most people would either respond or simply walk away, Fenris chose to stand and stare at his companion. Aeva stared back, wondering if there was going to be something that would eventually spill from his mouth. And although there were many thoughts involving their brief interaction, nothing found it's way out.

"I don't need help with it, if that's what you're wondering."

"I was," he nodded. "But that's good."

"Alright, then."

And with that, she wandered toward where the crew had made her tent. Fenris turned away, not sure what word was best suited for the odd feeling inside him. Guilt may have been too strong. And it didn't fit. Which is more than likely why he didn't apologize when he for some reason wanted to. Aeva was like him in that way, though, that they would not take pity from someone else. Still, he could have said something other than making whatever foolish attempt it was at being friendly. It would be a long journey, however. And he would have better moments to redeem himself. Or so he hoped.

* * *

Fenris usually took the first watch. What he didn't mention was that even after someone else was awake, he continued to stay up and scout around the camp. Elves were naturally light footed. And he was certainly no exception. He was able to circle around completely unnoticed. Even when he was confident that the camp would be safe, he ventured out and continued his rounds. It had become a habit from boredom more than a lack of trust. But that fact was always a lingering thought as well.

There was also the point of being camped in the middle of the forest without any real road to follow. It was a narrow path surrounded by thick wood. Finding a clearing for tents was difficult enough. It was very obvious these woods were not occupied often. Which meant things were most likely linger closer to the road. Just as he started to travel a bit further north, he heard leaves rustling in the distance. He could tell precisely the direction, but could not make out the beast making the sound. It became louder, cracking twigs beneath it's feet.

"Sounds big, doesn't it?"

Fenris reached for the hilt of his sword, pulling it inches out of it's scabbard before he realized Aeva was perched in a large tree nearby. The glint her eyes made in the dark gave her away. He noticed her arm was reattached, more than likely the reason why she was so far away from the camp. He noticed she did not like being watched while tinkering with it. The sword in his hand lowered back into it's case. And he stood quietly listening to whatever was in the wood.

"What is it?"

She looked down, turning her half eaten apple in her hand. She listened to the footsteps a few more times before nodding, taking a bite, and chewing the bit in her mouth.

"It's a fennec," she said between chews. "Sounds like it's gathering some leaves to bring back to it's hole."

"I don't believe you," Fenris squinted up at her.

"Fennec's have legs that are too short to walk over a lot of the underbrush in forests. Especially this time of year when the leaves are falling. They have to hop. And they hop pretty quick, making it sound like a sequence of footsteps."

"How do you know the difference between that and a bear?"

"A bear would have attack us by now," she smiled down at him.

"Oh, is that all?"

Aeva paused, but decided it was alright to laugh at his statement. Whether or not he meant to make a joke, she found his sarcasm humorous. Fenris looked back out into the wood, watching the leaves being stirred by tiny hands that he still could not see.

"It was a rule of thumb," she finally stated. "If it's that close and that loud, it's a fennec. If it's that close and that loud and it is a bear, then it's a very stupid bear."

Fenris chuckled to himself at her logic. "Is that a Dalish hunting rule?"

Aeva let out a huff of air, biting her lip and looking at her hands. "No. Not quite. It was something my father used to say."

"Used to say?"

For a moment, she was standing in the snow. She was between three huts. She could see the tavern puffing smoke through it's chimney, it's bustling creating noise in the background. She saw a tall elf dressed in a tattered tunic, a jawbone necklace hanging from his chest. She felt her chest tighten as she retreated from him when he reached out. The need to withdraw and to keep her personal matters to herself was strong. And the acceptance she felt from him when she was uncomfortable was touching. But then she snapped back into the wood, her back against the trunk of a thick tree. She was no longer that scared, lost elf. And the man below her was quite different than the one she used to know.

"He uh..." she said quietly with a small smile. "He was attacked by a bear. Before I was born. He was too close to the cubs and he didn't see any of them. It crippled him. And he couldn't hunt anymore."

"How ironic," he raised a brow to her.

"I suppose," she shrugged, sliding down from the branch and making a very muffled thud into the ground like she was some sort of cat. "But if it wasn't for that bear, I wouldn't be here. So we can be a little grateful."

"We'll see about that."

The tone was dry, but the little grin he passed her indicated he was teasing. Aeva shook her head in disbelief, lowering her head to hide her amusement. He had not joked once, but twice within a few minutes of them casually conversing. And even the conversing was a feat of its own. She left it at that, not wanting to spoil the moment, and headed back toward the camp. Fenris, on the other hand, continued to listen to the loud shuffling ahead. His eyes darted from one side of the wood to the other, searching for the true cause. Just as he had started to give up, two large ears poked out from behind a log nearby. A small fury creature rounded the other side, scooping a large pile of leaves. It stuffed them inside the log before retreating to find more brush.

"Well... how about that..."

* * *

"Rise and shine, my lady," Ferguson tossed Aeva an apple as she exited her tent.

She surprisingly caught it, but wasn't awake enough to know what to do with it. Her instincts were usually more alert than she was. The caravan leader rounded up his crew in front of a smoking fire pit that he had recently put out. There would be no well cooked meal this morning. And unfortunately, the eggs had been sucked dry during their time in the mountain pass.

"We've got to get an early start. Got a big day."

" _ **You**_ have a big day," Fenris corrected him. "We don't move in until nightfall."

"So stay here, for all I care," the burly man shrugged. "We need to make it down to Kirkwall before the customs line grows too long. Or else the cart won't reach the meeting point in time."

"Do you think Varric's made it back yet?" Aeva yawned with a half stretch.

"Without a doubt," the dwarf waved a scroll in his hand. "Just received word by raven this morning."

"Perfect," she slumped onto the back of the wagon, still clutching the apple.

"So this is where we part, then?" the pale elf had crept up beside her, speaking directly to her leader.

"I'm afraid so," Ferguson placed his hands on his hips.

"Let me get my pack."

Aeva remained seated, rocking back and forth as the smuggler clambering around the wagon for her things. When she was finished, she threw her pack onto the ground and planted herself next to Aeva.

"I didn't know we'd have a third?" Aeva looked at her inquisitively.

"Iris," she held out a hand.

Aeva shook it and was surprsed at how soft it was. "A pleasure."

"I'll be leading you down the cliffs and into the Darktown come nightfall."

"I thought Fenris was the Kirkwall expert?"

Iris laughed. "Why don't you ask him how he got in the last time?"

Fenris had heard his name and the snickering between the elves, but didn't pay them any mind. He was far too concerned with readying the supplies in his pack. It was never much. Just a few potions. A sharpening stone. Some rations. Aeva, on the other hand, kept a satchel full of tools. And on her belt were various vials of mysterious liquids. Some were poisons. Some were poultices. He was just glad she knew the difference between them all. Iris carried a small pack as well. But she mentioned it was simply climbing gear in case the cliff side path was too difficult to navigate on foot. Fenris had to admit, he had never climbed in such a way before. Aeva, however, was quite accustomed to it. Though she never mentioned how.

As they left their band of merry merchants and fellow smugglers, their pace quickened. Elves were faster than humans. And though the journey was a further distance with a more difficult route, they were certain they would reach the city before the caravan. In fact, after a time, they agreed to hasten to a sprint along the less traveled forest path. Before long, the terrain changed. The rocks in their path became larger. Tree roots began to cross the way. And the earth began to incline. It wasn't long before they were hopping from one large rock to another. Once they reached the top, the trees cleared and the ground flattened. And the air was suddenly lighter.

"Ah," Iris grinned. "It's the sea."

"Didn't you say you were from Kirkwall?" Aeva asked, noticing the hint of nostalgia on her companion's face.

"Aye," she nodded. "Not that these waters are anything to miss. But the smell get's me every time."

Iris was right. Kirkwall may have been built by the sea. But it was no paradise. The way Kirkwall was built into the rock made it a fortress. And even the waves could not penetrate it. They crashed against the sides, creating dangerous shelves in the rock. Their navigator pointed down the way to where they could just see the city.

"That's our path. Or what's left of it. As we get closer we'll have to use the ropes to lower you into the tunnel. You can see it from here."

There was a small hole just large enough for a person to stand.

"The way the cliff curves, you can only see it from this point," she pointed to where they stood. "It's an old smuggler's route."

"Into Kirkwall?" Fenris scoffed.

"I thought as much, too," she shrugged. "It's been such a well kept secret that no one knows if it was for getting slaves in or out. But when the tides are high, that hole sits perfectly above the water. Just high enough for a boat. Can slip anyone in and out."

"Where does it go?"

She motioned to keep moving, and the two followed.

"Used to go into a warehouse up in Lowtown. But obviously, everything up there has been renovated," she kicked a rock off the cliff as she glanced down. "It's a nobleman's store house, so not much has changed."

"A nobelman's storehouse... He doesn't have room in his estate?"

"My intel insinuates it's where he keeps his art. And apparently, it doubles a dog house when his wife is upset. But not to worry. He won't be home."

"How do you know all this, Iris?" Aeva said, following the rear.

"Oh, well, being a thief in Kirkwall has it's perks."

"I'm surprised we've never cross paths," Fenris added.

"I'm sure we have," Iris smirked. "But you'd never know it."

* * *

The elves were quick on their feet. They had made it to the dropping point a few hours before sunset. Aeva took the time to adjust her arm while Fenris attempted to nap on a tree nearby. Iris kept watch, scouting the terrain around them for travelers. It wasn't likely anyone was to come upon them, but she wasn't taking any chances. They waited for the sun to set, which was difficult considering the sky was already so dark. They still needed a bit of light to descend. Still, Aeva looked forward to their nightly cover. The only thing that would give them away were shadows from torches. She enjoyed dark nights like this one. It reminded her of scouting with her clan.

The time soon came for them to toss their ropes down cliff. And though they were sturdy, it was still frightening to look below to the sea that would swallow them if one single thing slipped. Iris and Aeva were graceful down the rope. But Fenris had a more difficult experience. His feet scraped against the rocks, sending loose gravel onto Aeva below. She scolded him multiple times before waiting for him to catch up so they could venture down closer as a unit. Finally, they had reached the hole. And it was much darker than they had anticipated. No one had brought torches. Not that it mattered.

"Into the fray we go," Aeva held out a hand.

"Oh, no," Iris shook her head. "It's all up to you two, now. If I go in there and they catch wind, we're all done for. Besides, the fewer the elves, the less suspicious you look."

"She has a point," Fenris ducked into the cellar.

"I've got to pull up this gear and get 'round to the next meeting place, anyway. Remember," Iris pointed at Aeva, her other hand still gripping the rope, "into the storage room. Right hallway. left room. Door at the stairs to the right. It's the servant's entrance."

"I understand," Aeva nodded as she detached herself.

Fenris had already been swallowed by darkness, the reflection of his eyes gleaming from what little light was left. Aeva ducked down, following him though he was several steps ahead. His armor was so matte and dark it difficult to make him out. In fact, she had lost sight of him completely for a short time. But his white hair remained the beacon that she followed. Eventually, he came to a stop. And they felt a smooth surface in front of them rather than rock.

"How cliche," Aeva chuckled. "It's a painting."

"Too easy," Fenris said.

He gripped the back of the painting with his gauntlets, their pointed ends digging into the board. With ease, perhaps too much ease, he pushed it aside. The edge of the frame caught something on the other side, sending a varied amount of objects clanking onto the floor. He stopped abruptly, his hand still stuck in the wooden back with a look of hesitation on his face.

"I'm sure that was necessary," Aeva nodded with sarcasm.

"Yes, well..." he cleared his throat while removing his hand.

He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he walked through the entrance he had created. Aeva followed, glancing into the room around them. It was a decently lit room with shelves. Paintings were stacked against the walls alongside sculptures. There were books stacked about, but nothing of importance. Though, Aeva did notice many of the paintings and almost all the sculptures were of elven women. Among the things that Fenris had managed to knock over were candles, a basket of herbs, and several vials of oils. Aeva picked up a vial, turning it over in her hand. She turned to show it to her comrade, but he was already gone. Tucking into her pocket, she glanced back down, touching the dried herbs. She recognized some of them. But there wasn't enough time to examine them further.

Crouching closer to the floor, she began to chase after Fenris down the hall they were told to follow. As soon as she exited the storage room, she went right down a long hallway which was in no way illuminated as well as the storage room. She found it odd that it was so well kept. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see the cellar was not as dank and dreary as she had imagined. The walls were finished with a textured coating and the walls were light with romantic scones. She imagine the upper part was redecorated just as lavishly. And some kind of scent lingered in the air, making her body tingle. Incense perhaps? She couldn't place it.

The mansion was supposed to be empty, but she couldn't help but hear the ceiling creaking above. The nobles were gone for the winter, traveling to Antiva for warmer weather according to the details Iris had given. However, that didn't mean a few housekeepers or cooks weren't left behind to tend to the place. It may have been a storage house... but it was a nice one. The goal was to be quick. In and out. Without a sound. Which is why Aeva was surprised to find her companion frozen in the hallway facing a well lit open door. His eyes were wide. And she could hear... giggling... coming from the room he stared into.

"Fenris," she hissed at him.

He glanced at her but didn't respond. She quickened her pace to a slight jog, stopping just as she could peer inside the room he was so enraptured by. Inside was a small dining room filled with servants. They were all seated at the table, some of them holding their plates. And they were looking at Fenris with a desire that rivaled a demon's gaze. Aeva looked among them and realized they had not noticed her, yet. She ducked behind the frame, stifling laughter as best she could.

"I uh..." he gulped.

"It's been a while since a man has come down here," one of them said. "What can we do for you?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head violently. "This... this must be the wrong house..."

Aeva looked at him scared and unable to move, like some sort of deer startled in the wood. As if he was being hunted. Hunted by her. As if she were hunting prey. She felt a strong urge to touch him, to pounce upon him and feel his flesh. The women were onto something. He was a man. A man unlike she had seen in a very long time.

"Or it's the right house," another said.

"No, no," he started backing away. "I shouldn't interrupt your... uh ... dinner."

"You could stay if you like."

"Don't overwhelm him," the voice sounded older. "I know he's nice to look at. But let him be."

He was nice to look at... Fenris was a bit taller than the average elf. And he was strong. Abnormally strong. And he looked so different. Dark skin. Beautiful eyes. White hair. The tatoos even made him more appealing. And his voice left her wanting.

"Oh, shove off, Ester. He's considering the offer. We've been down here for months."

"Months?" Fenris lowered his brow. "Can't you just leave?"

"And go where?" Ester huffed. "The burned down alienage?"

"Master Hawthorne was kind enough to take us in. As long his as his wife doesn't have to see us, we have a place to stay."

Aeva reached out, but shook her head. The smell... it was stronger. And her need... was stronger. Even when she closed her eyes, somewhat watering from the scent, she could see him. It was hard to think about anything other than feeling him. Because of it, she was unable to recall the herbs back in the storage room. There was something particular about them.

"We have to get moving," Aeva said, feeling the tingling sensation spread across her skin.

"I'm afraid to move," Fenris grumbled.

Before waiting for him to make a decision, Aeva bolted in front of the door between Fenris and the dining room. A loud gasp filled the air and the women exchanged glances of heartbreak and surprise. They chattered to one another as if not knowing what sort of plan would work to rid this woman and keep the delicious looking elf man.

"Inquisitor," one of the girls, younger and a bit more aware than the others, stood up from her seat.

"Run," Aeva said, darting down the hall way.

Fenris was quick in suite, ducking as a plate came flying into the hallway. Several loud crashing noises followed. Aeva turned her head for a moment to ensure he was close by. He was, but the elven women were gaining on them. Somehow. She had never seen anyone like that before. Not unless some sort of spell was cast on them. Before she could ponder on it any further, she took a sharp turn to the left into what she hoped was the correct room. The door Iris spoke of came into view. Without hesitation, they climbed up the stairs and the burst through it, crashing into an alleyway in Lowtown. The fresh air hit her nose and suddenly, a haze she did not realize was there lifted from her vision.

"Wait," she called out to Fenris a few steps ahead.

He stopped, turning with concern at her abrupt stop. Aeva looked toward the door, watching at least six woman walk into the open. They looked around, rubbing their eyes and blinking absentmindedly into the alleyway. The younger woman, the one who pointed her out, was just barely in view. She looked at Aeva longingly. But said nothing as they drifted back inside.

"What...?" he was still taking steps backward away from the warehouse.

"It was some kind of spell," Aeva said quietly. "I could smell it as soon as we entered."

"I don't think magic has a scent," he said. "And I couldn't smell anything."

"You're right. It must have been some kind of vapor. Made for women? There's plants and potions that... can arouse... a person..." she slowed her speech as she realized what had overcome her in that cellar.

And then she remembered the herb.

"But if it was made for women, then you would... have..." his voice trailed.

Their eyes locked for a moment. But it felt more like several minutes. It was long enough for Aeva to blush loudly. And for Fenris to place together what had actually happened.

"Let's just... let's just go," she nodded her head.

"Yes, I agree," he replied in haste.


	5. Questioning Dalish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping what appeared to be an oddly enraptured group of elves, Aeva and Fenris slink through the streets of Lowtown. Fenris, being familiar with Kirkwall in general, acts as Aeva's guide and brings her to the Lowtown alienage. They are greeted by the Vhenadahl and the one watching over it.

The alienage was just on the other side of Lowtown. And with the cover of the clouds that night, the two were able to dart through the streets without being noticed. As they grew closer, they became more comfortable. Less alert. Aeva walked quietly next to Fenris, deep in thought. She had been since they left the warehouse, her brow tucked down and her mouth slightly agape.

"Fenris," she said as they walked quietly down the alley. "Did you see the storage room we entered in that warehouse?"

"Yes, I was there," he grumbled sarcastically.

Aeva sighed loudly. "Did you actually _**see**_ it, though? Look around?"

"I didn't."

"The paintings... and sculptures... were of elven women."

"Oh?" Fenris slowed his pace. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He came to a sudden halt. "All the women in that dining hall were elven."

"I know," Aeva was surprisingly aggressive. "There were herbs in that room. Ones I recognized. I think I was right."

Fenris watched as she reached in her pocket. She pulled out a small book bound in black leather.

"Yes. Here," she pointed at a leaf drawn on the page. "They use this for love potions. But they were somewhat mock potions. The herb doesn't necessarily have any true power. It's just an herb that induces arousal."

"That was more than just... _**arousal**_ ," he recalled the look of hunger on them.

"These oils must amplify it," she reached into her pouch to reveal the vial she had taken. "I'm not sure what it is. But with some time I could find out."

Fenris lowered his brow. "We don't have time for that."

"Perhaps not now," she suggested. "But I have a bad feeling those women are prisoners, Fenris."

His blood grew cold and Aeva could swear she saw a flicker come from his lyrium tattoos.

"We can't just leave them there," she tucked her book back into her pocket.

"You're right," he looked behind him back in the direction of the housing district.

"We can send a letter to Varric when we regroup. It appears one of the women was at least somewhat coherent. Perhaps she could become a contact?"

"You've been planning this the entire walk here, haven't you?"

"That's what I do," she shrugged.

"What about that vial?"

"I'm keeping the vial. I can't trust anyone with it. Besides," she patted it safely on her belt, "It's hard to find a decent alchemist these days."

"You're an alchemist?"

"The most dangerous kind," she winked.

"I honestly hope you mean poisons and not that you're clumsy," Fenris continued to walk forward.

"You know. I thought hearing you joke from time to time would brighten this companionship," she was just a step behind him. "But I'm starting think the only thing you find humorous is your sarcasm and the fact that so few know it."

"You're very observant."

"You're very aggravating."

Fenris glanced over the shoulder to see Aeva grinning with her own sense of sarcasm. The alleyway ended in a staircase that round the corner. Aeva recognized it from the maps Ferguson showed her. She hadn't taken them, of course, as Fenris was acting as her guide. Still, he didn't need to notify her that the alienage was just around the corner. And to be truthful, she was rather excited to see the city elves of Kirkwall. It was not her first alienage. In fact, since her travels with Sera and her work with Red Jenny, she was able to travel to many elven dwellings. Some were smaller than others. And some were quite large with their own market districts. Others were outside of the main city, similar to a Dalish camp. One thing was for certain, the city elves were welcoming to the Dalish. And they knew how to celebrate.

Aeva also believed some of her greatest followers were of the alienages. Though she was Dalish, she was still an elf. And while many of the Dalish disowned her for the title of Herald, the city elves cheered her name into the streets. She became an inspiration. Which also lead to many of them making their pilgrimage to Skyhold. Needless to say, Aeva was looking forward to the progression of the people. A warmed welcomed greeting. A place that felt safe. And what she had expected to be a quaint hovel, somewhat a district of it's own, was something completely different when her eyes fell upon it. A faint gasp came from her mouth as they stepped down to the second flight of stairs. Fenris turned, seeing her something between enraged and desperate.

"Easy, now," Fenris lifted a hand, seeing her eyes widen.

The alienage was a slum. Worse than it was before. Half of the buildings were collapsed. Many of the elves were living in tents. Debris lay across the streets. And the tree... half the tree was scorched. Blackened. Burned. Aeva ignored Fenris and walked down the stairs. Her feet and her heart lead her to the tree. She reached out, touching it's dark trunk.

" _Ir abelas, vhenadahl. Ma melava halani vehn_." *

"It's quite sad, isn't it?" a timid voice came from the other side.

Aeva opened her eyes and lowered her hand, the charred residue leaving soot on the palm of her hand. From the shadows, as if she had been waiting, came a small pale elven woman with shoulder length dark hair, the front half twisted into a braid around her head. The vallaslin on her face were familiar. Falon'Din. Friend of the Dead. Aeva felt a tinge pain in her heart as she remembered her face was bare.

" _Andaran atish’an_ ," the elven woman gave a great bow. "I apologize for interrupting your prayer. But we mustn't stay in the open for too long."

"I agree," Fenris approached them, brushing past her with hardly a glance.

The woman looked frantically between the two, but decided that following the brooding elf was her best option. She walked quickly behind him, leaving Aeva to trail into a building still in tact nearby. The last look she gave the alienage was one of hesitancy. There would be many eyes upon them. Dipping into the abode, she noticed a few lit candles through the room. Much of the furniture was covered in dark canvas sheets. And the shelves were empty. On a table nearby was a plate of bread and a stack of books. Below it was a pack ready to go.

"Varric said you'd be here at nightfall," she leaned over the table. "I got a bit worried and decided to wait outside."

"We ran into a bit of trouble," Fenris said, looking cautiously around the room.

"I figured as much," she chuckled. "The whole city is trouble these days. Varric is doing what he can. And I've been able to re-home many of the elves-"

"Re-home?" Aeva interrupted.

"Y-yes," she suddenly became more aware of Aeva's presence. "A district in Lowtown has offered to open it's doors. Some of the elves are staying there while we've been working on rebuilding the alienage. It doesn't look like it, but we've made a lot of progress. What you see out there are mostly workers. Or... just the stubborn ones who refuse to leave."

"And the tree?"

"I... believe it's salvageable," there was a hint of hesitance in her voice. "I could use some herbs. Not anything like here, but ones from the actual forest. But I can't exactly go off on my own."

"Varric is adamant that she stays in the alienage," Fenris muttered to her.

"Of course, I'm so sorry. You must be Merrill," Aeva held out her hand.

"Oh!" Merrill's eyes grew wide with adoration. She bowed once again, oblivious to Aeva's offer to shake. "I-I am. I'm so sorry. I thought there would be introductions."

Aeva noticed the woman glancing cautiously to Fenris and slowly pulled her hand back. There was a tension there that she had noticed upon arrival. He had barely looked at Merrill. It was to her knowledge they had known each other for years. Still, there was hardly any acknowledgement. Evenmoreso, he seemed to be more alert in her home than he was walking the streets. She pondered the reasoning for a moment only for her thought to be interrupted. A quiet voice. She looked to Merrill only to see she had moved to the front of the table, breaking apart the bread. Fenris was still standing stone faced in the middle of the room. And she was certain she could not sense movement outside. But still. That whisper...

"I wanted to make you something," Merrill said frantically. "But I've already given away my things."

"That was foolish of you," Fenris grumbled.

"Well... I figured I wouldn't be back for sometime."

It was the first time he looked at her. And there was no kindness in his eyes.

"You're not leaving the alienage."

"But I-"

"Not only has Varric given strict instructions, but I forbid it."

"Fenris," Aeva held out her hand, her mechanical one just to make him uncomfortable.

"I can't just leave it," Merrill looked over her shoulder to a doorway in the corner of the room. "It's all I've-"

"Even more reason for you to stay here. _**Away from it**_ ," he stepped closer, despite the arm dividing them, his plate armor touching Aeva's metal and making a small _tink_ sound.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fenris," Aeva hissed at him. "We could very well use her help."

"This isn't for you to decide. You're not leading this escapade."

"Neither are you," her arm lowered, and her full body stepped before him. "Varric planned this with both of our expertise in mind. Perhaps he overlooked Merrill."

"There's a reason."

"If there was one, maybe I should have been informed. Because I see no-"

"Enough!" Merrill shouted. "I can speak for myself, thank you."

The two jumped at the sound of her voice, once too quiet and shaken to reach above them. Merrill stood behind table, fists clenched and brow stern.

"Varric hasn't kept me in the dark, as much as you'd hoped he would," she glared at Fenris. "I've been helping. As much as I can, anyway. And if what he says is true, you'll need more of it. I go where the mirror goes. And if Varric believes the mirror isn't safe here anymore, then I'm not safe here, either."

"What do you mean?" Aeva asked.

"I know I'm not the only one with knowledge about these mirrors... but I'm the easiest to find. And currently the least protected. If I could be somewhere that could protect me while I continued to study, then I could get more done."

"What about the alienage?"

"What about the elves?" Merrill retorted. "What do you say, _lethallan_? A part of our heritage we can take back. Isn't that what you want? You've come so far."

The desperation in her eyes made Aeva understand why Fenris was unwilling to compromise. Still, Aeva knew the desire she spoke of quite well. The Lavellan clan had recently come into power in the Free Marches. They had been welcomed into the city, but were of no alienage. They were still Dalish. And they marked their streets proudly. They were nomads no more. And there was a chance for them to rebuild a portion of what was lost. If they could revive artifacts like this one, they could do more than a recover civilization. They could have their own power. And they could help Aeva combat what was to come.

"Don't fall for it," Fenris shook his head at her, seeing the revelation on her face.

"Well, she has a point," Aeva cocked her head to the side. "We don't have any mages in the party."

"We don't need mages."

"We do... we absolutely do. What if something goes wrong? Do you know how to fight whats on the other side of that mirror?"

"Don't need to," he shrugged. "We just smash it."

"You are _**not** _smashing it!" Merrill slammed her hands on the table.

"You're definitely not smashing it," Aeva agreed calmly. "Look, I've experienced what this mirror offers. And isn't always pretty. We're better off bringing her so she can keep wards up."

"Absolutely not."

"Fenris," she stepped in closer, her voice getting low to a whisper. "I've seen what comes out of that mirror."

The cold eyes of the Little Wolf finally came down to meet hers. Her tone had changed and there was now a sort of sadness he could see in her eyes. There wasn't much of it, but there was enough for him to feel something. Again, he couldn't place the word. Guilt? Pity? No. He did not feel those things. It did not matter.

"Merrill can keep it sealed."

"Fine!" he threw his hands up. "I can see how having one other person in the caravan that knows _**something**_ about the mirror would be beneficial."

Merrill's stance loosened and a small smile broke through as she realized her acceptance.

" _ **But**_ ," Fenris pointed at her in warning, "there will be no studying the mirror until it reaches it's destination."

"O-of course," she nodded. "There won't be much else I could do until we get there, anyway."

"And," Aeva added. "And... if we could keep the mirror covered at all times, I feel that would be best."

"I've already got an enchanted cloth over it as we speak," Merrill gestured to the next room.

"I best get moving, then," Fenris turned toward the door.

Aeva went over the plan in her head. A few short moments. It was only a few. Short. Moments. The thought of the wall being the only thing separating her and the mirror made her feel uneasy. And that Merrill was the only one with her. There was a lot of uncertainty revolving around the elf. Varric trusted her enough. But Aeva could had the impression of an agenda that had not yet been spoken. It made her nervous.

"Fenris," she blurted just as he opened the door.

He paused, looking slightly over his shoulder.

" _Dareth shiral_. Come back soon."

While Fenris was not fluent in elven, he was familiar with the Dalish. He knew well wishings when he heard them. And he nodded before shutting the door quietly behind him. Aeva could not feel him nearby in a matter of seconds. And when he left, there was a sensation of emptiness that crept upon her. It struck her cold as she had not realized the void had even been filled somehow. And when the darkness opened, the whispers from before came back. It was different than the voices she usually heard. The voices from the well. They were always chattering, always showing her images. But this was different. This was a whisper she could almost understand. It almost made sense.

"So," Merrill said abruptly. "Here we."

The elven woman seemed nervous and Aeva was sure her strange behavior was not helping.

"Yes," Aeva nodded, clearing her head the best she could.

"I have bread."

"Oh... yes. I'd... I'd love some."

"I, um, didn't have any plates. I just sort of... ripped some pieces for you."

"That's quite alright, Merrill. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Inquisitor!"

"Aeva is fine."

"Aeva," Merrill smiled warmly. "That's a lovely name. Clan Lavellan is a lovely people."

"Have you met them?" Aeva inquired.

"Only once," she nodded. "It was briefly. And it was by chance. But we crossed their path while traveling north into the Free Marches. They offered to join clans, but... Marethari was determined to find our own path."

Merrill seemed saddened by her own statement. But it did not trouble her for too long.

"And it didn't seem there was a lot of space. Your clan is... quite large."

"Yes," Aeva grinned. "We tend to take in a great deal. Clan Lavellan is well known since we trade with the shems of the Free Marches. City elves and abandoned Dalish somehow know to seek us out. They come to us with rumors that the shems say there is a traveling elven city with giant aravels. But they're just... regular aravels."

"So I've heard. Your Keeper is very...accepting of new ideas."

"That's one word for it," Aeva raised a brow and glanced down.

"You don't care for your Keeper, do you?"

"I don't."

"I find that odd."

"I'm sure you do."

"I'm sorry," Merrill shook her head. "I didn't mean to offend."

"I'm not offended."

Aeva's responses were short. And as much as she tried not to appear annoyed, it was very clear she was. The Keeper of the Lavallen clan was not someone Aeva considered a friend. She had ideas for what she felt was right for the clan. Even if it meant making sacrifices. Even if it meant turning their backs to the old ways. Even if it meant altering someone's life. Even if it meant leaving someone behind. She gritted her teeth.

"I just noticed, when I did meet them, that there seemed to be a sort of delegation among your people. Your First was terribly occupied, which is typical. But it was different than what I had experienced as First."

"You mean Cyris?" Aeva perked up.

"Yes, that was his name!"

"Cyris has a demanding way about him," she smirked. "Keeper Deshanna keeps clean hands and a smiling face. He does the delegating, as you put it. And she acts as the face of the clan."

"Well that..." Merill paused in thought. "That sounds more like how shems work here than it does a Dalish clan."

"The Lavellans are a bit ahead of their time," Aeva reached over to grab a piece of bread. "They knew to get any power in the cities, they would need to operate like the shems do. Deshanna is not stupid by any means. She's very powerful. But she will never show it unless she has to."

"The less threatening she seems, the more the clan can move."

"And the more accepting the shems are. We look like a traveling merchant caravan with a charismatic Keeper. No one truly knows the actual number of the clan. And we keep a few hidden for that reason."

"Wow," Merrill leaned forward on her hands. "I suppose they've made a lot of progress. Especially in Wycome. It sounds wonderful."

"We'll always be Dalish," Aeva looked at the bread, realizing it was of elven recipe. "But some of us are learning to adapt."

"Did you adapt? Is that why you're vallaslin are gone?"

The silence in the room was filled with a thick cloud of doubt. It made Aeva choke before she could put any food in her mouth. Her eyes began to water without reason. Her chest tightened as she failed to breath. The fingers of memory touched her face. The place where the tattoos once were tingled on her skin. There were specks of light flashing before her eyes. She could hear the waterfall in the background. Feel the mist coming off the pond. The smell was there in the room. The jawbone dangled in front of her. The whispers grew loud.

There was a knock on the door.

But before anyone could answer it, Fenris burst through.

"If we're leaving, we best go now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Translation: "I'm sorry, tree of the people. Your time here helped the people."  
> Roughly meaning that Aeva is sorry for the hurt the tree has endured and that it's presence has helped the alienage. Ma melava halani in the wiki translates to "You helped me" but I find this translation a bit wrong. It appears to be more like "Your time helped me" considering melava means time.'  
>   
> Notes: Aeva's origin is up, in case you are curious due to the conversation between Aeva and Merrill. It's not finished, but it's there. Take a look! I'll eventually explain why Aeva is called the Viper.  
> 


	6. Lights of Kirkwall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeva and Merrill are interrupted by an eager Fenris. Without anymore hesitation, they take to the streets. Between back alley thugs, heavy cargo, and a couple of guards just trying to do their jobs, the group stick put their faith in what they know best: absolute luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a long chapter. I got really into the fight scene. Also, please read the notes at the bottom for my take on Kirkwall! If you follow my blog, you know I've been having a hard time with it.

Fenris had a firm grip on the bottom of the mirror. It was heavier than it looked. Then again, the cloth covering it was thick and there were several ropes around it, adding to the total weight of the package. To him, it made no difference. But to the human who was carrying the front with his hands behind his back, it was most certainly challenging. Fenris thought he had asked the strongest of the smugglers to accompany him when he rendezvoused with Ferguson. But apparently, he was the only one capable of carrying the blasted thing without stumbling.

Merrill trotted along nervously, glancing down all the streets they passed. She hadn't been this far away from the alienage at night in some time. She looked at the mirror often, touching it to make sure the cloth was secure or lifting a rope to drape it around so it didn't drag on the ground. Her pace kept her next to it all times. It would have been nice if she could drift behind. But she knew Fenris would not like it if she fell too far back. And she knew good and well that becoming distracted would be a good enough reason for that to happen. A shadow passed over her quickly and looked above. But was relieved to find it was just their third elven companion jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

"She'll let us know if there's anything to worry about, right?" the human looked back nervously.

"I doubt it," Fenris said over the mirror. "But she'll take care of it nonetheless."

Aeva was in her element. She leapt across the shingles, making hardly a sound under her bare feet. Her boots had been left in Merrill's pack all with good reason. If she hadn't informed them of her rooftop roguery, they wouldn't have known to look for her at all. She was completely undetectable. Even Fenris had to admit the closest thing he saw of her was a brief shadow just out of his sight.

Aeva was not shy to conflict. And as she passed over the city, she made note of which streets looked problematic. Then she would dart back over the mirror, checking for signs of any unexpected troubles. When she was sure her company was safe, she would dash back ahead, scanning everything from alleyways to open windows to lit rooms. There were conversations she was able to drop into, though none were very informative. However, there was a tone she picked up ahead their destined path just above the staircase that she did not agree with.

"There isn't shit out here tonight," a grufed voice complained.

"It's because of the damned guard," another replied. "They've tightened security on the streets in Lowtown."

"We should have just went underground like the rest of the gangs."

"And leave all this opportunity?"

"Quiet!" a deep voice chimed in. "If there is anyone roaming the streets, then they aren't coming this way because you've already alarmed the entire block."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that...."

Aeva's smooth voice caught them off guard, muffled slightly by a mask over the lower half of her face. But they weren't completely surprised. She had managed to slide down a banister nearby and slip herself into the shadows provided by a stack of crates. Their meeting ground, more than likely an ambush point, was likely going to cause a disturbance for her group. And if she could take care of them quickly and quietly, there wouldn't be an ambush at all.

"Another vigilante?" the deep voice came into the light, a burly dwarf with daggers at each hip. "I'm about sick of you lot."

"I hate to disappoint you. But I'm more of the real deal," Aeva pushed herself off the crate she sat atop.

"Disappoint? Oh, my dear, you've only made my night."

The dwarf tossed aside his cape, revealing thick leather armor and metal bracers. He was clothed far too well for a common thug. But she noticed his lackeys were under dressed. A human and an elf, more than likely common thieves. They would be the first to go. Before she could pinpoint her easiest target, the sound of rushing footsteps interrupted their dispute.

"Smugglers! In the alley! They're carrying something and moving- _**gurgrlf**_ -"

His alarm was cut short as a small blade left Aeva's hand and found it's way into the throat of the poor sod who ran into the opening. The trio turned their attention to her, her mechanical hand already reaching for another blade, one of many tucked away around a belt at her thigh. The other was caressing a vial at her hip, ready to unleash the deadly element within. Time had given her the chance to play with her new abilities. And time had allowed her to succeed. If she was right, she wouldn't have to pull her daggers out at all.

"Where were we?"

The body fell, alerting the thugs that now was the time to strike. All three leapt at her, but she was far too quick. She had bound backward well before their weapons were out. In her place was her first vial. It crashed into the concrete and following was a hiss as a pool of acid sunk into the ground. It wasn't as deadly as the gas that filled the area. The dwarf and the human coughed. But the elf had a mask of his own and rolled out of the cloud as quick as he could. It was of no worry. Aeva had already crushed the second vial in her hand. Her body was electrified. It left the elf in shock. And the other two were unable to see her atrocity through the thick cloud of toxic gas.

"Get out!" he tried to shout.

But it was too late. Aeva had already dashed through cloud faster than the eye could see, sending a surge of lightning through it as if she were a storm herself. It lit up the street causing a loud crack upon initial impact. It wasn't the silent flash she wanted, however, and she noted in her head to tone down some of the alchemical balances when she had the time. Other than that, she was quite pleased with her experiment as the human fell screaming in pain. She sent a quick blade to his temple, but it was intercepted by wall of ice. The elf appeared to be a mage. Still, the body of the human twitched uncontrollably on the other side and the dwarf continued to roll on the ground. There was clearly some enchantment on his armor. But the electricity was enough to distract him. Aeva turned to the elven mage, ready for her attack with his staff in hand.

"Come on then," she taunted.

But as he unleashed flame from his hand, she vanished as it engulfed her. The dwarf, now aware, helped the nearby human to his feet. There was no chance for even just an attempt to look for her as she appeared behind the mage, one of her daggers in his shoulder. The other she drove into his side, pulling it out quickly, and causing his body to catch aflame. It was too late for him to realize the blaze he saw was not from his fireball... but from another flask she had broken.

As his body dropped, the human and the dwarf rushed her. She was able to block them both; the dwarf with her dagger, who went sailing backward, and the other with her mechanical arm. The human staggered, but was somehow resistant. He struck at her quicker than she anticipated. Perhaps the lackeys had skills after all. At least this one did. He was fast, lashing out with short and swift strikes. He had been a Raider, there was no doubt about it. Unfortunately, Aeva was quicker. And with flames still curling around her body, her abilities were limitless. She dodged, laughed, and struck out. She gave him a few more lunges, but then quickly unleashed a violent series of slashes. His defense was impeccable. But his armor was aflame. It was then she noticed the dwarf, who had been cast aside, was still unaffected by her element. The affects were subduing him, but not causing any true damage. The flames at her fingertips subsided. She only had one option left.

The vial felt cold to her touch and only got colder as she broke it into her chest. The chill was felt by all. Even Fenris, Merrill, and the smuggler who were growing closer down the street felt the cold breeze down the way. Aeva's body hardened in a layer of frost. And as the human struck down with his sword, he froze solid. The dwarf, however, struck her armor, causing her to take a few steps back. There were few that matched Aeva in the art of duel wielding. And in her lifetime, she had already met most of them. This dwarf was no challenge. Aeva proved in a matter of seconds she was faster than him, even if he was stronger. Her legs carried her from one side to the other, creating small lacerations into his limbs. The metal arm made it easy for her to make her left side vulnerable. And he was dumb enough to strike it every time. Like a cat toying with it's prey, Aeva circled him. As she drew in close, once again... she vanished.

The open street fell silent. The dwarf was left looking for the threat. His fingertips felt cold and the cuts on his body stung, but all in all, he was still standing. He just needed to land the perfect strike. The doubt he would never get one began to sink in as the silence was overwhelmed by the sound of the beating of his own heart. He couldn't even hear the muffled footsteps of Fenris and his companions coming into the light. He turned. And just as he did, Aeva appeared, her remaining dagger shoved into the center of his spine. He dropped, his eyes still open, and his mouth full of blood. It splattered onto the concrete when he fell.

"We're almost there," Fenris called to her when she came into his sight.

"I'm right behind you!" she replied as if nothing happened at all.

The group rounded the corner to a stair case where they descended. It was a long steep staircase and they were eager to reach the bottom as soon as possible. As they vanished, the body of the human cracked and the layer of ice fell around him. He gasped for air, falling to his knees and clutching his chest. The first things his eyes saw were pools of blood. He shot backward, shuffling away from the sight of his three comrades laying dead before him. He had no idea what had happened or who that woman was... but Lowtown was about to be completely free of thugs again.

* * *

"I don't understand," Aeva pinched the bridge of her of nose with her hand while the other rested on her hip. "Why did we have to carry this thing all the way down here if we were just going to leave through Lowtown in the morning?"

"Because," Ferguson grunted as he helped lift the mirror into the wagon, "there are less eyes down here."

"Looks like a lot of eyes to me," she gestured to the group of homeless gawking at them.

"Eyes that talk," he corrected.

"You realize that makes no sense," Aeva grumbled.

"They're used to seeing weird things," Fenris said. "If someone comes asking, unless they have very specific questions, they won't give an answer. And if the question is specific... well, the coin better be good."

"I doubt they'll tell a soul," Ferguson hopped out of the back of the wagon. "A lot of folk down here are elves. And a good bulk of em are on your side."

"For now..."

Aeva glanced over at the small crowd watching them. It was true. Half of them were elves. She wondered what good Varric was with people like this living in the dark tunnels beneath the city. Then again, she knew nothing of Kirkwall and it's long history of oppression. The city was poor. It was half destroyed. And it was hopeless long before Varric came into power. If anything, he had made it a better place. Not necessarily safer, but better... in a way.

"Have you seen any hooded elves wandering about?" Aeva approached them, reaching for her bag of coin.

Their looks fell between each other and the gold in her hand.

"Elves with strange markings. Or clothing. Perhaps they talk strangely?"

"One or two come down here from time to time," a young elf said.

"Have they spoken to any of you? Or any of the other city elves?"

"Not that we know of. They seem to be... occupied. We only see them in the morning. Like they're out all night looking for something."

Aeva glanced back at Merrill who was clutching her hands. They must have been searching Lowtown. All the time that had passed, surely they had given up the estates in Hightown. It wouldn't have been difficult to find Merrill. She wondered what was distracting them. Varric had to have placed misinformation somewhere to keep them guessing.

"If they come down here. If they ask. You tell them whatever they're looking for is here in Kirkwall. Got it?"

She tucked the coins in her hand into her pocket and tossed the entire sack of coin. Aeva was resourceful and knew if she could not earn it back somehow, she could always rely on her slight of hand. The elves rejoiced quietly to one another, dividing the gold immediately and shuffling over to a flat surface to count it. It should have been enough to get them out of the city. But she knew they had nowhere to go. No one this far down does.

"Let's get out of here. We can't wait for sunrise," Aeva turned to her comrades.

"Not a problem," the burly dwarf nodded. "Varric's got customs ready to slip us through the eastern gate tonight if need be. They're probably waiting for us."

"Prepared for everything. As usual," Fenris sighed with the thought of good rest that night dissipating.

"Then we're more than likely late," Ferguson tied the canvas straps tightly to the wagon. "Without the horses, we'll have to pull this up ourselves. It'll be a long night."

Fenris stretched his arms behind his back. "I'll carry one side... but after this, I'm not carrying shit."

The horses had already been taken to the other side of Kirkwall. Normally, Fenris would have suggested using the tunnels in Darktown to get to there, crossing the channels by bridge. However, many of the tunnels were flooded with gangs. A few years back, Hawke had managed to wipe out many of the organizations. And after leaving, Aveline made sure Lowtown's ruffians would not make a comeback. Pickpockets and small groups were still able to slip by. But any sort of organized crime was shut down into the old mining tunnels. Getting the cart across there was too dangerous. Instead, they would have to pull the cart up the ramps onto the docks.

Fenris grabbed one of the posts, lifting it with a grunt as he waited for one of the smugglers to take the other side. He was surprised when the entire wagon lifted with ease, nearly tossing his weight to the side. He glanced over to find Aeva, the other post in her mechanical hand with a smile on her face.

"Let's get this over with then, shall we?"

* * *

Fenris was surprised when the moonlight hit his face. The clouds had somewhat subsided and illuminated the opening into the docks. Taking a good look around, he noticed nothing had really changed. After the Quanari attacked, the place had been completely rebuilt. It was detrimental to Kirkwall that those docks were still usable. The refugees had been fewer, but the trade goods were coming in more than ever. Some of this was due to the renovations in Kirkwall since it had nearly been torn apart. The other was because Varric was incredibly cunning when it came to trade deals. But this also meant the docks were heavily guarded. And as soon as he heard the sound of water splashing onto the rock walls below, it was accompanied by the clanking of armor.

"Hold it," a guard shouted, trotting down a stair case a ways up the path.

"Hello there, friend!" the dwarf shouted, springing up the ramp and eyeing the wall next him, careful not to slip into the water. "I'm glad you're here. We have a bit of an emergency."

"Not tonight, I'm afraid. Docks are closed."

"Oh," he replied, shuffling into his pockets for paperwork. "We won't be using the docks. Just the ferry."

"The ferry? From here?"  
"Aye," he nodded, handing him a small piece of parchment. "Viscount's orders."

The guard looked over his shoulder, hearing his partner stride calmly beside them. He held the paper up so they could both read it. They handed it back to the dwarf. Aeva, lingering just beside the cart after setting it down, stared closely at the paper. Even at her distance, she could tell the paper was just a torn off bit from a journal. And the letters on it were just hastily written scribbles. She chuckled with an eye roll. There wasn't a chance they were getting away with it. Even if it was Varric's handwriting.

"That's a big cart coming from Darktown. I doubt anything coming from there is worth the Viscount's time."

"I haven't got the night to explain what happened. But I can say that we expected a faster passage through the town. Now we are behind schedule."

"You can't honestly expect me to believe you, do you?" he shrugged. "Look, buddy. You can pass through here to get back into Lowtown. But you'll have to sit tight until morning. There's nothing I can-"

"I swear Baron. You're lucky I was up late writing letters tonight," a familiar voice descended the same staircase.

"Varric!" the burly dwarf through up his arms. "Good evening to you, serah."

"Save it, Baron," he gave a sly grin. "One more hour and you'd have to see me in my silk robe."

"I should have taken my sweet time to get here, then!"\

"Don't tease me like that," the two embraced briefly, clapping one another on the shoulder. "I suppose you'll need to move a bit faster?"

"I'm going as fast as I can," he gestured to the cart.

Varric eyed Fenris and Aeva at the front, patiently waiting to continue their labor.

"Elves usually aren't the best for this kind of work," he mumbled, knowing full well they were the strongest of the bunch.

"Saving the strapping human lads for the morning. Should get a nice burst of speed."

"Fair enough," Varric shrugged, turning to the guard. "You heard the man. Maybe we can get the ferryman to head this way?"

"Of course, serah," one of the guards gave a slight bow.

"Alright."

The two elves took in a deep breath, exhaling as they lifted the wagon to their waste. The smugglers, who looked as suspicious as any, exchanged glances with one another as they trailed behind it. Varric watched them walk by, one by one, and nodded at them as they passed. He hung behind the cart for a moment when he noticed the back canvas flip open. A dark haired elven woman peered from behind it, waving frantically with a silent large grin.

"Merrill..." he whispered to himself, but made no other action to draw attention to her. "I - erm- let me see you off. I'd hate for you to run into any more trouble."

"W-well, certainly. It would make the journey a bit easier... I suppose..." Baron glanced at him doubtfully.

"Why not? It's been awhile since I've seen an old friend."

"Serah, are you sure-"

"Absolutely sure," Varric interrupted him. "They've got protection. And I'm not helpless, after all."

"Alright... if you insist."

"I'm insisting," Varric glanced back at Fenris who glanced at Aeva who received a stare from the dwarf more threatening than anything he could have said.

Aeva gave a rebellious smirk all the while knowing there would be a time when Varric would choose to have a few select words with her. Fenris was looking forward to it. The elven woman was stubborn. There was very little he said that she headed. Then again, that's what he liked about her. They pulled the cart in unison together quietly, staring at their feet, occasionally looking up to glance at the backs of Baron and Varric being guided toward the far end of the docks. Aeva still had the mask around her face, but Fenris could tell by the creases by her eyes she was gritting her teeth. The arm had been taking too much weight for too long. Before he could say anything, the guards had stopped.

"Wait here a moment," one of the guards said before he jogged away.

The other reached in his pouch, pulling out to sticks of flint. He struck them together, causing sparks between them. He held them close to a burned out lantern, but it quickly regained its flame. He blew on it lightly. And just as it did, the other guard came running back. He handed over a piece of dark metal. In the other hand was a whistle. He blew on it, looking across the water as his partner slid the metal into the front of the lantern. He spun the lantern by the handle and waited. When nothing happen, they did the very same thing again. Across the water came another whistle, a bit deeper than the first one. And in the distance, they could see another lantern that seemed as if it were blinking. It was another spinning lantern, signalling the ferryman. Their side gave three whistles. A pause. And then a long whistle.

"He's letting them know to bring the big boat," Varric explained.

"Ah," Baron nodded. "Very good."

"Should arrive soon," the guard holding the lantern added.

"Thank you guardsman."

It was a quiet wait for the ferry. There was the occasional sigh. And of course the lapping of the water. But other than that, the crew stood by and waited. It wasn't too long, but just long enough for some of the smugglers to feel awkward in the presence of guards. Including Ferguson. Before anyone could cough to break silence, the ferry creaked into view. It was a large flat boat. A barge. And Fenris recognized it as bringing large quantities of barrels across the channels.

"All aboard then," the ferryman said at the helm.

He was an older gentleman with unkempt hair and a long beard. He was wearing a long gray robe with a scarf draped over his shoulders. The long nights on the water were often cold, even in the warmer months. But this was just the start of the cold. And his nose was already getting red. He even sniffled a bit as he beckoned for the group to board. Aeva reached down to assume her position on the wagon.

"No, no," Fenris held a hand out to stop her. "I believe someone else was going to get that."

"Oh?" Aeva straightened herself.

"Yes," Fenris looked around, making eye contact with the first sod to look his way. "Him, actually."

"Me?" the man was puzzled.

"It's your turn. As you said."

"Um, I-"

"Quit your babbling and come help me load this blasted thing," Fenris commanded before he had a chance to argue.

The man did as he was told, lifting up the post in a strange way, but lifting it nevertheless. The guards were able to drag a ramp over from one of the ships, allowing safer passage for the wagon. The barge rocked a bit as it boarded, but seemed sturdy enough to carry it. And one by one, the crew piled on. There was some hesitation from some of them, but no one refused the ride. And no one said anything about the cargo or of it's weight.

"Safe journey, then! Have a good night, serah!"

"Farewell," Baron gave a slight bow. "And thank you for your service, my good men."

The ramp was pulled up and it took both the guards kicking the edge of the barge with their feet to get it a good ways out from the dock. It rocked again, causing a few feet to scuffle nervously. Aeva lowered her mask and stood with her back against the railing, holding tightly as she sighed. With her eyes closed, she felt the motion of the waves. The sounds of the water were relaxing. The breeze was calming.

Across the way, Fenris stood facing the city. It had been quite some time since he had seen Kirkwall. The last time he had, it was nearly in ruins. And though it wasn't much different, it looked beautiful from where he stood. The lights on the other side reflected off the water pretending to be stars in the reflected sky that had none. The clouds still covered above, making the water that was not illuminated appear as a dark ominous liquid. He wondered how far he would sink into the blackness if he fell over the edge.

"I was hoping the next time I saw you here, it would be a pleasant visit," Varric intruded.

"My time in Kirkwall is never pleasant," he replied without looking.

"Still, it would have been nice to have a drink with an old friend."

"There might be wine rolling back there somewhere," he nodded to the cart.

Varric laughed heartily. "Which reminds me... looks like there's some extra cargo."

"That would be your friend's doing."

"I didn't doubt that," he glanced over to Aeva, breathing slowly through her nose.

"However," Fenris sighed, "I can't say I didn't disagree. Merrill's life... _**could**_ have been in danger."

"Well," the dwarf shrugged, "I had other plans. But this works, I guess."

"We'll just have to make it a quick trip."

"Whatever makes you happy, elf. I'm going to take a quick peek before I have to say goodbye. It's been a bit since I've said hello to Daisy."

Varric patted the railing with a soft smile. Fenris gave a nod of approval, turning as the dwarf past by him on his way through. He leaned his elbows against the rail facing Aeva. She was still breathing slowly. And heavily. Yet she had not gotten sick. He crossed over the barge, stood next to her, watched for a few moments, then leaned in close.

"Scared of the water?"

Aeva jumped, but did not open her eyes.

"Just of drowning," she said calmly.

"You can't swim... can you?"

"I cannot."

"Shame..." he said, crossing his arms and resuming his position against the rail. "This is one of the best views of the city."

"I'm not a sentimental person, Fenris."

"Could have fooled me..."

There was a quick breath of air that came from her nose. Then an eye opened slightly, looking at him cautiously. And then, right after she squeezed her eyes tightly, she opened them... and he was right... the city was amazing. For a moment, she forgot about the deep water below and the rocking of the boat. She even loosened her grip and took a step forward only to lose her balance. She fell back onto the rail, Fenris chuckling as he watched her stumble. It did not bother her, though. And she even laughed alongside him, looking at him as if she were a child of wonder and amazement. Until she looked the other way toward the sea. Fenris looked as well, seeing the moon shimmering just on the other side of the jagged cliffs. It was the only thing separating them from the vast open water.

"If only your enemies had been pirates," Fenris teased.

"Oh, I'd find a way," she jested back. "I'd be drunk most of the time. But I'd find a way."

"Easy to be fearless with liquid courage."

"It's not so much courage as it is forgetting to be afraid."

"I'll toast to that," he tilted a shoulder.

"Maybe when we get to the horses?" she looked up at him.

"We could continue our conversation from the tavern?"

"I'd like that."

The boat continued against the waves into Kirkwall, tame but a bit choppy as the wind blew. Varric chuckled slightly as he whispered through the canvas to his old friend. Ferguson was propped against the front of the wagon, an eye ahead to where they would dock. Baron stood next to the ferryman, attempting conversation but only getting slight grunts. The rest of the crew chatted among each other. Some sat on the floor of the barge. Some sat on the rail. All were tired. And as for Aeva and Fenris... well... they just stood facing the city... enjoying the view...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have NO CLUE how Kirkwall works. I've looked at maps. I can't figure it out. So for the sake of writing, I am guessing. If anyone would like to correct me, please do. Because I can rewrite those details no problem. I am doing this based on that Kirkwall is built into a cliff side that curves inward. The Gallows sits kind of in the middle on the southern most point of that inward curve. Next to the docks of course which are on either side... because that makes sense. Almost like the Gallows were built around the dock. There are channels all through Kirkwall. And some of them have ferries. You can take a ferry from one end of Kirkwall to the other. There is a western, northern, and eastern gate out of Kirkwall. All through Lowtown. Lowtown expands the entirety of Kirkwall with various districts. Hightown (as explained on the wiki) is only accessible by stairs. No gates lead out. The wall beneath Hightown on the eastern side of Kirkwall is of course Darktown, the abandoned mine. It runs the length of that wall with bridges of the canals. Does that sound right? Good. This also means the travel time with the map in game is cut drastically. Correct me and I'll edit this, too. I worked hard thinking of this.


	7. Rest and the Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After saying goodbye to Varric in Kirkwall, the caravan headed down the Wounded Coast. It was midday when Ferguson pulled the reins, forcing the group to take an early rest. Aeva reluctantly agrees and finds herself vulnerable with a bottle of wine and a nice warm fire.

Through the cover of gray clouds, a hazy sun rose. The band of smugglers with their company could feel it coming as the morning's dew greeted them first. The horses had been attached to the wagon at long last and some of the crew members had climbed into the back to take a short rest making soft snores and sniffles as they were carried along. After about a mile down the road, Merrill had climbed out. She had seemed saddened by the departure of her friend, who had left them at the gate, and said very little as she trailed behind. Ferguson held the reins in his hands, Aeva sitting next to him with her arms crossed at the front of the wagon. Fenris walked to the side between the caravan and the treeline, staying alert to any noise made nearby. He was familiar with the enemies of the Wounded Coast.

"We'll go along the coast for a bit. Stop midday and make camp," Ferguson said.

"Only midday?" Aeva sat up.

"We're all tired, lass. It'll be better if we get a good meal and some rest before we head to Ostwick."

"If we rotate in the wagon, I'm sure we could get along just fine."

"I'm sure we could. But I'm not subjecting my men to a rickety wooden floor when they can have canvas and cots. No offense, my lady."

"I see," Aeva nodded slowly, realizing perhaps she was being a bit harsh. "How long until we arrive at Ostwick?"

"Just another day. But we're pretty familiar with the road, so we should arrive a bit early."

"I didn't realize you visit Ostwick so often."

"We do a lot of business there. During the war, Ostwick was one of the few Circles aiding the mages. Those who didn't flee to rebel, they protected. The Chantry had cut off supplies. And well, we saw business."

"Exploiting the weak?"

"You wound me, my lady."

Aeva shrugged, taking it for what she saw.

"It wasn't always exploiting," he leaned in. "There were a few trips off the books."

"Baron know about that?"

Ferguson snickered. "If he did, I'm not so sure I would still be here."

It was a few hours past the noon sun when he finally gave the order to make camp. He was hoping it would be sooner, but the terrain was a bit rough to camp on. At the very least, he wanted to find a nice patch of dirt or sand. So when he found a flat surface atop the cliffs over looking the sea, he was satisfied enough to pull the wagon to a halt. At the south side was a steep drop off where the waves crashed heavily against the rock. To the north, a treeline of pine that was thin enough to pitch tents in. Some of the needles had fallen, giving the ground a soft surface. Aeva walked to edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves swelling beneath her. There was the strange feeling again. The fear of the nothing beyond the sea. It was a larger feeling than what she felt at the barge. It was like the all the other times... like the first time...

The first time she saw waves this large...

The first time she sat on the coast...

_The rain came down heavy and she looked outside her tent. It wasn't letting up any time soon. She paced, rubbing her hands on her face. If she didn't act soon, the trail would grow cold and she would never find the Grey Wardens. The flap to her tent lifted without any announcement of arrival. And he stood, a look of concern on his face. He offered her a warm drink. They sat across from each other on her cot. He made her laugh. He took her hand, but it was for research. His fingertip traced in the inside of her palm. She snatched it back..._

"Aeva?" Fenris jumped down from the wagon. "You're looking at the sea strangely again."

"Yes..." she shook her head. "Yes I am."

"Ferguson is setting up camp if you-"

There was a drifting silence between them as she brushed by. Her movements seemed slow and her eyes looked blank. Almost as if she were in some sort trance. It had been a long night. And upon further inspection, he could see spurts of blood across her armor. Still, for her not to respond at all was odd.

"... want to take some time to rest," he finished his sentence, watching the back of her disappear around the wagon.

The tents were nothing like she used when traveling with the Inquisition. These were much smaller. Large enough for a cot and maybe a table if you angled it correctly. Her tent was in the northernmost corner and the closest to the fire, which Ferguson had already prepared. It was still small and clinging onto the wood from the blowing wind, but he stoked it carefully so it did not catch flame to the pine needles below. Iris sat nearby peeling potates and whistling softly. They looked as Aeva came through, but said nothing.

The fear from the waves was not going away. And the more she thought about a way to be rid of it, the worse it got. Aeva did not handle fear well. It simmered in her chest, tightening her lungs and making her heart race. When it began to boil, she burst with rage. And she couldn't let that happen. Not in front of the camp. There was only one thing she could do. She reached into her pack, looking for a specific vial. And it was there bundled in the center of strange looking leaves. It was a black mixture with floating powder. In most cases, she would use it as a bomb to subdue her enemies. But mixed with the liquid, it became a sleep aid in small doses. She shook it up, causing it swirl slowly. The small cork made a small pop as she opened it. And with a wrinkled nose, she took one drink of it as if it were a shot of the strongest ale. There was a bit of a gag, but then she swallowed hard a second time to try and be rid of the taste. The cork went back into the vial, between the leaves, and bound with string once again before she placed it back in her pack. The affects were almost instant. And she barely had enough time to lay her head on the pillow. It was her escape... for a time...

But then...

* * *

_There were the waves again. Massive. Merciless. And loud. This time, she stood on an island. She was high above the ground. But the waves at sea were nearly as tall as where she stood. Somehow, by some unknown force, they calmed just as they lapped at the side of the island. Some of the spray came up, causing a mist. It was what formed the fog around the island. The boat. She looked down at the boat. The tiny thing that had managed to get them across. Her comrades were already headed down the path. Her chest tightened._

_"It's alright," he said, his voice as soft and smooth as she remembered._

_"I just need a moment," she breathed heavily._

_"Maybe you should sit down," he took her hand, guiding her to a tree stump nearby._

_She lowered herself onto it, her hand still firmly in his. He knelt beside her, looking up into her eyes. His face was always so calm. It was as if he wasn't worried about a thing at all. Everything he said was just right. Especially when it came to her._

_"I just watched you spit in the face of a dragon," he smiled. "And now you're afraid to get in a boat."_

_"I know," Aeva laughed. "I'm sorry."_

_"Don't apologize," he shook his head. "Though it is quite humorous."_

_"I don't know why," she sighed. "I suppose I was never in the water much as a child."_

_"It makes no difference."_

_"It does," her hand tightened around his. "I'm not allowed to be afraid. I can't be."_

_His eyes softened and his smile turned into a frown. Aeva leaned forward, her head touching his. She closed her eyes, but he looked down. She never realized he looked down. The thought never crossed her mind that he was uncomfortable in that moment. That the broken look he gave her was because seeing her vulnerable meant he was already tearing her apart._

_"But I feel like I can with you."_

* * *

The sudden exhale of air that came from her mouth loosened her chest, sending her upright from her cot. There was a moment of panic as she backed against the tent, throwing her pillow away from her side. Her eyes darted across the canvas. She felt up her, touching the metal to make sure it was still there. Then she pinched her shoulder. She was awake. And with a sigh of relief, she slumped back down onto her stomach, grabbing the edges of her blanket and burying her face into it. The scream was internal, but she felt so badly to let it out. The Fade was never kind to her. And though the Solas she saw was just a memory, it was still just as terrifying as if it were really him.

Aeva reached in her pack for the vial, but stopped herself. It was all she had. And though the journey should not take more than a month, she still wanted to make sure she had enough to last. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, dragging her knees to her chest. The feeling wasn't going away. Thinking back to when the attacks first began, she remembered her inner circle showing concern. There were few she spoke to about it. But the ones who knew were always there when they saw the signs. The first was withdraw. She always isolated herself. The second... was sudden anger. And Aeva didn't want to get that far. She closed her eyes tightly.

And then... she remembered the barge. Aeva was able to look out at the see under the blanketed moon on a rickety boat carrying a dozen people. There was hardly a time when she could look into darkness like that. The vast nothingness, as she liked to call it. And even that afternoon when she looked over the cliff. The sound of the people around her had somewhat kept her calm enough to pull herself away. Even if just for a moment. The thought of Fenris making her laugh crossed her mind. It was just like the way he would calm her down. The feeling swelled like the waves outside.

But it wasn't his fault.

Aeva's legs dropped. It wasn't Fenris's fault that he was able to use sarcasm to make Aeva laugh. Or that it was the same tactic Solas used when she felt afraid. That laughing in the face of fear and danger was literally the only thing that kept Aeva calm. No... that was her own fault. Pushing herself onto her feet, she chuckled to herself. The darkness... the waves... the drowning... the nothing... it was no longer her only fear. And she laughed at the thought of it before kicking it aside.

Exiting the tent, she saw exactly what she expected. The sun had just set, a small glow still over the west side of the sea. Several of the smugglers had been propped against various things, either sleeping or attempting to sleep. One was playing a small wooden flute atop the wagon. There was a pot of soup simmering over the fire, still hugging to the wood for dear life. The soup smelled wonderful with bits of carrots and potato floating about. Iris stood over it, tending to it with a ladle so the bottom didn't burn and ruin the good flavor. Ferguson was placing blankets over the horses. Baron was more than likely in his own tent. Fenris was sitting next to the fire. And Merrill was across from him, a bowl cradled in her hands.

"You're finally awake," she greeted her warmly.

"How long was I out?" Aeva asked, taking a seat next to her.

"A few hours," Iris replied, handing a bowl of soup to her.

Aeva let it rest in her hands, the warmth of the bowl heating up the cold sweat in her palms. "Only a few hours?"

"We didn't get much rest, either," Merrill said. "If any at all."

Fenris rubbed his jawline, careful not to cut himself with his own gauntlet. It was clear he had not even tried to sleep. Aeva thought about the conversation that first night at the tavern.

"People like us rarely do," she said quietly.

"I know what you mean," Merrill sat her bowl aside. "There's too much to do."

There was a shuffle as Fenris rose to his feet.

"My mind is always on the next thing. The sooner I can fix something, the quicker I can help someone. It always feels like there's never enough time."

"There's enough time if you aren't wasting it on old magic," Fenris grumbled.

"Is that why you can't sleep?" Merrill shot him a look. "Because you're too worried about magic? What it might do?"

"Something like that."

There was more to what he wanted to say but knew arguing with Merrill wasn't the right thing to do. In all their years together, she was never cruel to him. She never turned down a chance to help him. Even when he lashed out at her, she usually came back with some sort of smile. Even so, after what happened at Sundermount... to the Keeper, he couldn't look at her the same. And the only reason he was there now was to ensure the mirror would transfer to someone more capable. Still, Merrill's ability to remain naive and innocent made it difficult to be unkind. Though he didn't feel guilty when it slipped from time to time.

"I'm overdue for a drink," he grumbled to himself.

"I could use one as well," Aeva agreeing, looking at Fenris as she sat down her empty bowl with traces of the soup she had devoured in a matter of minutes.

"Shall I acquire the beverages?" he raised a single brow in her directions.

"I suppose this is as close as we're going to get."

"Well," Fenris lowered his arms mid-stretch. "I've only been waiting all night."

The smirk on his face hinted that he was teasing, but Aeva had a feeling there was truth in what he said. Meanwhile, Iris had started gathering the bowls around the fire, placing them in an empty crate to take to wash later the next day. She was a woman of few words and gave them a slight nod as she retreated into her tent. The camp was buzzing with soft noises. The soft hum of the flute. The crackle of the fire. The crash of the waves. Ferguson was right. This was the rest they deserved.

"It's nice to see you two get along so well," Merill said with a hint of sadness.

"Well, it's only been a few days," Aeva teased. "Give it time."

Merrill gave a giggle as she crossed her feet underneath her. "I'm glad he's alright. He doesn't make friends quite so easy. I know we don't get along as well as friends do..."

"What about your other friends?" Aeva changed the subject.

"I'm afraid I don't get to see them as often. Varric was the only one that remained in touch. And when he left for that year with you, I only received letters once a month. If that."

There was a long silent pause between them, enough time for Fenris to come back a bottle in each hand. The corks were already removed, and he threw them into the fire as he passed by. Aeva took the bottle that was handed to her and immediately put it to her lips.

"I suppose after Hawke left, there wasn't a reason for us to speak to each other anymore."

Fenris had lifted the bottle, but stopped at the mention of his name. It rung in his ears for a moment. But then he drowned it out with the sound of loud gulping as the wine sunk into the back of his throat. _**Hawke**_. He hadn't heard that name in years. Even Varric was careful not to bring it up.

"Another reason I can't sleep," he grumbled, bringing them back to the subject he had left.

"I can see that," Aeva lifted the bottle in toast, causing Merrill to giggle.

"Thats right! You've met him before."

"Unfortunately," Aeva smiled back. "Has he always been so difficult?"

"By difficult do you mean an ignorant fool?" Fenris swirled the bottle in his hand.

"Not always," Merrill ignored him. "He often had a way of being clever and kind."

"The fool part sounds more accurate," she pointed at Fenris. "During the time he spent at Skyhold, I was almost always occupied. And he was usually... missing. "

Fenris scoffed over on his side of the fire.

"The longest I was around him was at Adamant. When we went into the Fade."

"What was it like? Being physically in the Fade? I always wondered."

"It was... strange. It felt real. But nothing there was. It was all built from memory with things contorted. Like the way you remembered it and the feelings you had were what shaped it. But not all parts of the Fade are shaped that way. Some are... well, some are controlled by others. It's usually the ones that are created that feel... that feel a bit more real."

She stopped, catching herself before she went any further. Fenris froze, remembering suddenly why Aeva was asked to help guide the mirror in the first place. How could he forget? How was it that she was so good at hiding that part of her? That the most important detail in Aeva's life had been by passed in his brain? The subject was yet to be brought up in front of him. He had no idea how she would react. But he had to admit, he was curious.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she sputtered. "I didn't mean to..."

Aeva shifted, looking back out over the cliffs to the coast across the sea. It was as if she had been watching something the others could not see.

"No. Dont be," she held up a hand. "I like to remind myself that it was all part of the deception. I believed for a time the Fade was capable of being a beautiful place. But I know now just how easy it can be shaped by someone who controls it. He was no different than the fear demon."

The look became blank, as if she was on the coast across the waves. Fenris recognized it from before. He looked in that direction, taking a large drink from the bottle. Aeva mimicked him, wiping her mouth and looking down at the ground.

"Was he really so different... from us?" Merrill asked, leaning forward.

Aeva glanced beside to where she sat.

"Truthfully? He really wasn't. He was a normal elven man. An awkward. Quiet. Stoic man. There wasn't a time it felt uncomfortable to be around him. He enjoyed reading. Hated tea. Painted in his spare time. He did everything... just as anyone would..."

Merrill toyed with the mug in her hands. "Varric was always good at telling stories of love," she seemed hesitant. "It sounded like there was something special between the two of you."

"No... you can't love someone that never existed," Aeva replied sharply. "I would never know if the person I loved was a lie specifically created for me or not. I was never in love... I was fooled."

A lump formed in Fenris's throat. The thought that love was something so easy to toy with. He took another long drink to wash it away. The decision to cast love aside was made long ago. There wasn't time for it. And even if there was, he would not allow it to be used against him. Aeva was an example of everything he feared. Not that he blamed her for what happened. Deep down, Fenris knew if someone came into his life that he could speak so highly of, as she did of the betrayer, then he would have likely fallen as well. To be vulnerable in such a way was a privilege. Yet a curse for so many.

"To be in love with someone, you would have to know that the love would be returned," she went on. "I'll never forget what I felt with him. But I'll never be able to know what was real because of it. And I'll never forgive him for it. If I'm ever lucky enough to experience that feeling again, perhaps I can feel love in its true form... once it is returned."

"My, my," Fenris chuckled, feeling his cheeks redden from the wine. "A hopeless romantic."

Merrill began to quietly applaud. "A true poet."

"Oh, shut up," Aeva thew a stick in Fenris's direction. "I've had a lot of time to think on these things."

"I thought it was beautiful," Merrill smiled in adoration.

"I've never actually told anyone how I felt," Aeva held the bottle up to feel just how much wine was left. "Then again, I don't think I was able to portray this much emotion with feeling complete and utter rage."

"I can relate to that," Fenris held up his bottle.

Aeva moved hers close and they clinked the bottom of their bottles together. Merrill rocked backward, stretching her legs out and letting her toes feel the fire. She waited patiently as the two finished their drinks, looking between them. In the midst of the moment, she began to chuckle. Quietly to herself at first, but then it grew louder.

"We're quite the mess aren't we."

Aeva looked to Fenris who tilted his head in contemplation.

"I believe for the first time, Merrill... I can agree with you."

* * *

A few more hours passed before Aeva made the decision to go back to her tent. Fenris had also surrendered to the idea of sleep and Merrill had already been dozing off by the fire, so there was no other worry of her comrades. Ferguson seemed to still be bustling about somewhere on look out. And there were scouts ahead keeping an eye on the path ahead. She sat down on her cot, bottle in still in hand. She looked down to it, wondering why the wine wasn't enough anymore. She sat it aside, reaching in her pouch to feel for the dark leaves inside.

But she stopped. She felt them there. She knew the vial was at her fingertips. And she wanted so badly to sleep. But her hand wouldn't grasp it. She pulled her hand back out, looking at it as if there were something wrong. The feeling was gone. There's always the tinge of anxiety in the back of her head. But the tightness... the swell... the overwhelming panic... it was gone. She reached back into her pouch for a second time. But instead of grabbing the vials, she grabbed her tools.  
For the first time in a long time... she slept without her arm attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with this chapter... but I wanted to get it done so I can move on to more exciting chapters.


	8. The Safeguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Aeva well rested and the camp on the move, the caravan arrives at Ostwick a bit ahead of schedule. With nothing to do, Fenris and Aeva make a bet with interesting end results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we begin, I thought I'd elaborate a little on the history of Aeva's arm. And don't worry. I've already got part of a chapter written out that explains how it works. You're going to like it. :)
> 
> This is also another lengthy chapter. But well worth it.
> 
> Also, please feel free to leave comments or send me messages. I love talking about OC's and just the game in general. My blog is always available. I'm also open to roleplay. :)

When Aeva dreamt, she could often make out the shape of where her arm once was. It would haunt her either covered in blood or glowing an unnatural green hue. There were times her dreams were nightmares and she found herself attempting to cut off the phantom arm. She knew it was gone, but it was what was growing in it's place that terrified her. Those nights never ended well. Eventually, she filled the void with a wooden arm, a crossbow fixed at the end. And she found the nightmares where the unknown filled the blank space was now replaced with her wooden arm.

However, Aeva was unable to sleep with the crossbow. She was forced to remove it each night. And when she did, the nightmares of her arm slowly came back. Becoming desperate, she reached out. And found a solution with a heavier resolve. The metal arm was not easy to remove. But it was better suited for her needs. When the nightmares came, she would reach up. And when she felt the metal, she knew she was safe. There was no construction in the dream. No fake walls or disguises. It was a scapegoat for her. And there were not many nights she took it off. The times the arm did come off were for things like maintenance. And it never came off without tools unless there was a good reason. The pain when the arm was removed was incredible, tensing the muscles in her shoulder so much that it left her sore for hours. The best thing to do was to leave it for a bit to let it rest before reattaching anything. She hadn't the slightest idea of how the inside worked. But she knew enough to fix small kinks and watch the runes.

As she hovered of it, taking a pick and cleaning it out bits of dirt, she heard the sound of a light rain pitter pattering across the top of her tent. Short after, there was a call from Ferguson to gather the horses and pack away the camp before it got any heavier. The crew tried to argue with him about not yet having breakfast. But the man was relentless. Aeva sighed, knowing it best she move along as well. Grumbling to herself with a small elven curse, she put away her tools. The arm was easy to reattach. But she had not gotten used to the jolt of energy it sent into her body. She preferred to do it away from camp. Where others could not hear her. But this time, she would just have to be quiet.

* * *

"Absolutely not," Ferguson crossed his arms as the crew worked around them.

"I won't allow that mirror to go unprotected in that Circle."

"And I'm not bringing a band of elves with me. If the mirror looks suspicious, imagine bringing it in with four elves. It's already an old artifact."

"Then at least they'll know who it belongs to."

"And it will draw too much attention," the old man began to walk off in an attempt to end the conversation.

"One elf is meaningless. Allow me to go with you."

"Right... the one that hunts mages. Let him in the Circle full of mages who want to be left their freedom. Sounds like a great idea," Ferguson rolled his eyes. "Listen, Fenris... the worst thing that will happen is that they'll catch a glimpse of it and ask how much I want for it. They're used to us hauling artifacts. It's why Varric hired us."

"And I was hired to protect it."

"You were hired to protect-"

Ferguson stopped, his eyes catching the sight of Aeva just in time. She had appeared from around the wagon with an apple in hand. The broody elf saw the man was distracted and turn to see what he staring at. His demeanor changed immediately as well. When she approached, she couldn't help but notice their awkward stance.

"Don't stop on my account," she lowered her brow.

The two glanced at each other before Ferguson cleared his throat.

"Just, trust me," he said with a sigh. "I've been doing these runs for years now."

"He's right," Aeva said just before taking a large bite of her glorious breakfast. "We need to let him do the regular routine. If there's anything different, someone will have a big mouth about it. And they'll definitely have something to say about a small group of elves with an eluvian."

"So what? We split up again?"

"Not entirely," she shrugged. "But I don't think you're going to be fond of this plan, either."

* * *

Ferguson had been right about arriving in Ostwick early. When they set out that morning, the band of smugglers seemed somewhat excited about their travel to the city. They were already starting to chatter on about mutual acquaintances, shop vendors, and where to get the best food. Baron even seemed eager to press on, stating he would have coin in his hands the moment they arrived. And there was a genuine hustle to the horses that pulled the cart.

Aeva had to admit... she was curious as well. The clan had never gotten close to Ostwick. But she had scouted the edges of it from time to time. It was a calm city nestled in a valley between the cliffs of the Waking Sea and the summit of the Vimmark Mountains. She had never seen it's Circle, but knew if you traveled close enough, you could see it built atop the cliffs overlooking the city. This time, however, as she grew closer... it looked as if part of it had collapsed. Recalling reports, she remembered Ostwick had been hit hard by the rebel mages. Ostwick's Circle was the most secluded, being considered separate from it's city and having it's own jurisdiction. Because of this, it's mages were given a bit more freedom that the others. Many mages in Ostwick were happy. Still, the rebels wanted to reform Ostwick. Many of the mages refused to rebel. And in return, the Circle along with half the city was destroyed from the rioting. Aeva could see the aftermath as they walked into the streets. Buildings were still in ruins. Vendors sold out of wagons rather than stalls. A Chantry service with a four foot statue of Andraste was being held at the fountain square. And people crowded the streets.

Though the sight of the streets themselves were painful to look, the actual circumstance put Aeva and her company at an advantage. Their tattered disguises suggested they were refugees and it would help them blend into the disheveled appearance that covered the people. After the rebels attacked Ostwick, it was a point of interest for fleeing citizens and Circle mages who were still loyal. The city was profiting, but the room for a growing population was limited. And ships were taking advantage of the docks, taking in whatever passengers they could to help thin out the city. It would be easy to convince the locals they were looking for a boat to take them to Ferelden.

"We're are at a complete disadvantage if something goes wrong," he grumbled, staying as close as he could to Aeva when they had parted ways with the wagon.

" _ **We**_ are not. Just you."

"What do you mean _**just me**_?" he retorted angrily.

"I still having my throwing blades."

"And I have magic," Merrill added.

"Perhaps you should learn not to rely on your sword so much, Fenris," Aeva grinned at him.

"Tch," Fenris snarled, looking about the busy street. "I don't see you doing anything useful."

"Until Ferguson gets back, there isn't much for us to do other than find lodging and stay put."

"We could probably use a bit more coin," Merrill suggested, remembering she had none at all.

"That's right. Someone gave all their loose coin to a bunch of beggars," Fenris glared at Aeva.

"Alright," Aeva glared back at him. "You want to see how useful I am?"

"If it's more entertaining than your back talk, certainly."

"I don't think this is a good idea," Merrill said.

"If I don't bring back double what I gave to those beggars, then drinks are on me tonight."

"Double? That shouldn't be a problem here."

"You think you can make that?"

"More than likely."

"Ferguson said to keep a low profile," Merrill attempted to intercept a second time.

"Fine. If you can bring back double, then drinks are one me. If you can't, then drinks are on you."

"When's the deadline?"

"Sundown."

"Then we best get moving."

Aeva was gone in a flash. Her movements were so fluid and quick, he couldn't make out which direction she darted toward. The opportunities fro her were unending. There was stealing, gambling, pick pocketing, swindling, haggling... Sadly, they were in the run down part of town. And unfortunately, it's usually those sort of places that house the more underground type. She was sure she would get along fine.

"Fenris, I really don't agree with this."

"Oh, I'm not participating," he said, his brow raised.

"You scoundrel," she said with a large smile.

"But I do have an idea."

* * *

The streets of Ostwick were still bustling at sundown. Which was both a good and bad thing. On one hand, Aeva had a few more minutes to slight a few more coins off passing by standers before she reached the tavern. On the other, she was also a target with a rather large and bulging sack at her hip. A busy city at night was only as good as it's thieves. And Aeva was not sure she wanted to discover just how exciting the night life of Ostwick could get after the day that she had.

There weren't very many nobles who actually roamed the streets, so picking a wealthy pocket was difficult. She had to swipe carefully. And she had to be fast. When there weren't many targets to be found, she switched to gambling. In which case, she wasn't half bad. The majority of the coin in her sack was from her luck... and her skill. Aeva was a good liar.

Walking into the tavern, she felt the warm glow of booze and bodies. The room was packed and loud. It took some time, but she eventually found the darkest and gloomiest face in the room sitting at the bar with a goblet of wine at his fingertips. Aeva sat her coins upon the bar next to him.

"There," she grinned with a wicked smile.

Fenris took a drink of his cup. Reached to his side. And dropped a bag of equal size next hers.

" _ **HOW**_?" she groaned, leaning against the top in disbelief.

He reached into his pouch and pulled out several scrolls. All wanted posters for small time thieves around the city. A few she had recognized from her affair in the city. She had rolled dice with a few of them. Took off with a few of their items. And some money they didn't know they'd miss.

"You... did all of this. Without a weapon?"

"I did," his pride was larger than his bitterness and the grin he wore showed it.

"And did Merrill help you?"

"Not with this," he gestured with his thumb to a table nearby.

Merrill was sitting a table with cards in her hands. Around her were a series of men and women looking quite distraught. Surrounding her were coins in large stacks. Aeva felt her body drop onto the bar stool. Fenris motioned to the bar keep, sliding some coin to him. He picked it up hastily and rushed over to a barrel of wine.

"Beginners luck," Fenris leaned toward her.

"How long have you been here?"

"A few hours."

"A few hours..." Aeva chuckled. "Consider me impressed, Fenris. I'd love to hear how-"

" _ **No**_ ," a voice shouted from Merrill's table. "I know you. I've seen your face."

"You're mistaken, ser. I'm a refugee. I just-"

"Shut up. I know what you've done!"

The man who stood was dressed in plate armor. There were a few around him, one woman also in plate and a man in leather. They were not holding him back. In fact, they had their hands close to the hilts of the weapons. Aeva and Fenris were up before the bar keep could set Aeva's drink down. Aeva slid in front of Merrill who had risen from her chair. Fenris was nearby, staying behind them in case of a strike.

"Is there a problem?" Aeva asked, her hand reaching behind her.

Merrill took it, grasping it tightly.

"Yeah. There's a witch in the bar!"

"I don't think you know what you're talking about, ser. Sit down. I'll buy another around and we can play-"

"Shut up, knife ear!"

Aeva's eyes lit on fire. But before she could reach for anything, Fenris's hand grasped the back of the man's shoulder. In what looked like one swift motion, he turned him with one hand and crossed the other over his face. The room gasped with a few small scattered squeals followed by the united sound of several chairs scooting across the floor. It appeared the general census was used to tavern fights. There was a clicking sound that came from the bar.

"Take it outside!" the keep shouted.

The three at the table, the guests just trying to play, Aeva holding to Merrill, Merrill crouching behind her, and Fenris with his fist still at the ready all stood frozen. The crossbow was pointed in their direction.

"I won't say it again," his mustache was turned into a frown, covering his mouth.

They heeded him, making their way outside. The two men were out first, followed by a fast moving Fenris who didn't wait for Aeva. His fist struck the the fowl mouthed man again. He fell to the ground and the others withdrew their swords, the woman coming up from behind. The people in the streets screamed and ran. Aeva let go of Merrill, leaving her at the door to help Fenris.

"You'll watch your tongue," Fenris snarled.

"I won't apologize," the man pushed himself to his feet. "I have no kindness to give to those who sympathize with murderers!"

Aeva looked at Fenris and shrugged. Truth be told... they had all killed somebody.

"You'll have to be more specific," Aeva said.

"I don't know who you are... but that," he pointed. "That _**thing**_ is an apostate from Kirkwall. I remember her. I remember seeing her."

"No. You're wrong," Merrill now approached them.

"The mages destroyed everything," he went on. "When they were done with Kirkwall... they came to Ostwick."

"And we did everything we could to help our people here," the woman said.

"You're templars," Aeva looked between them.

"We _**were**_ templars," the one in leather said. "But we gave up our titles after we joined the Inquisition."

"But when we came back," the man wiped the blood from his lip where Fenris struck him. "When we came back... the city was still in ruins. There was no more Circle. No more templars. They both abandoned Ostwick. And the mages and templars who were left nearly starved. The city wouldn't help them. Not with the war. So they sat in their ruins."

"I'm sorry," Merrill clutched her chest. "I'm so sorry. I know what that's like. The alienage in Kirkwall was destroyed, too."

"Don't compare yourself to us," the woman spat, clutching her sword. "We fought the rebels to protect the innocent. And what did we get in return? We were recruited to the Inquisition... and served the rebels... treated them as equals... after we had just watched them burn down our home. We should have went back to the Order."

"The Templar Order was no different."

All of them turned to face Aeva, their faces scowling at her words.

"I won't listen to any of that shit," the man in leather gritted his teeth.

"You will," Aeva moved her cloak aside, her hood falling to her back. "And you shems will listen very carefully."

Weapons drawn and pointed in her direction, they tightened their posture. They recognized her the second they lay their eyes on her face. The short red hair. The sharp green eyes. The scar across her face. And the missing arm. Even if they had never seen her, they would know who she was. The rumors were true about the Inquisitor. Her presence radiated wherever she went. Like someone had lit a bonfire and it was left blazing in the middle of a field and open sky. Her gaze was intimidating. And her voice was commanding. Fenris suddenly felt three times smaller. And Merrill was enamored by her aura.

"What happened in Kirkwall was a tragedy. But don't blame the mages for it. Radical groups followed soon after the rebellion... on both sides. The templars fell to corruption. They separated themselves from the Chantry. And they allowed the enemy to infiltrate their keep. Not only that... but they joined it. Even after the Inquisition had opened their doors. We were lucky to have templars such yourself."

"Inquisitor," the bloodied man gasped.

"My Lady," the man in leather hesitated. "My lady, do you know the company you keep?"

"I do," she smiled. "This is one of my agents."

"My name is Merrill," she came further into view. "I'm a consultant to the Inquisition. And a former companion of the Champion of Kirkwall."

They looked at one another in confusion, certain there was some mistake made. Fenris crept upon them, his hand stretched out to a threatening blade. His arm phased through it, leaving his forearm in the middle of the blade but grasping the man by his collar with his hand.

"And she isn't the only one."

The man let out a small whimper, stepping back and nearly tripping over himself. His blade came free through the elf, but he still looked at it as if it might have a drop of blood. Confused, stammering, and somewhat able to gather their composure, they sheathed their weapons. The woman went first, her hand of her chest in salute and her head tucked down. The men soon followed.

"Inquisitor Lavellan," the woman addressed her. "I want to formerly apologize. As former Knight Captain Harrington, please forgive us for acting so ignorant. The three of us... have been through a lot."

Aeva looked at Merrill who gave a kind smile. Then to Fenris who was still inches away from the one he had struck. The man glanced at him from the corners of his eyes, too afraid to look but not brave enough to step back. Fenris chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder before walking away.

"Let's get back to our game, then. I believe you owe these women a few drinks."

There was a large sound of movement as all six of the ruffians made their way back into the bar. Oddly enough, there was also a loud burst of chatter as they entered the door followed by awkward stares and curious glances. The table was just the way they left it. And Merrill took her place behind her mound of coins. Fenris called for a drink. And Aeva found that her drink was left untouched at the bar. They proceeded with their night of merriment only for it to be interrupted by the rest of the smugglers who had finished their business with the Circle. After going over the details of their exciting day, Baron decided to buy everyone a round of drinks. To him, the band had tripled their earnings with a single day's work. It was a massive success. And he was more than happy to use that as a reason to get absolutely obliterated.

When Baron drank, everyone drank. Even Iris, who was not one that took a liking to ale. Flagons went around. Cards went on tables. Songs went to the air. The tavern turned into a party. Merrill eventually cashed in her winnings, giving her gold to Ferguson who promised he would take care of it for her. She made her way back to the bar where she sat quietly. There were a few drinks that had passed her lips, but Merrill preferred to keep a level head. She enjoyed the warm fuzzy feeling from the wine. But that was all she was willing to allow herself. She sat next to Fenris who's back leaned against the bar with his arms stretched out. He was waiting for a refill and was being rather patient about it.

"It reminds me of the Hanged Man," she said.

"It does. Except no one has died in a back corner."

Merrill giggled. "Not yet, anyway."

Fenris nodded and smiled.

"Do you miss Kirkwall?"

"Absolutely not," he replied.

Merrill thought for a moment about their time together in Kirkwall. Fenris had left after the Chantry exploded. The only person who knew where he had gone was Varric. And she was certain that was not intentional. There were times she looked at Fenris and could see the annoyance he felt being around her. They had never been on good enough terms to consider the other a friend. But she felt sorry for him. Sorry of what sort of reminder she was.

"You never speak of Hawke," she said suddenly.

"Why would I speak of Hawke?"

"You two were close. Don't you ever think of him?"

"No."

"Fenris," she situated herself better on her stool. "He thinks of you."

"I know, Merrill... I know..."

There was a clank of metal on wood as the bar keep slammed his drink down. He turned reluctantly to grab it, making slight eye contact with his elven comrade. She was as sad as he remembered. Her eyes were always so large and he could never tell if she was trying to make him feel guilty or not.

"It's none of my business," she shrugged. "But I know if Hawke knew we were together again... he'd want to know all about it."

Fenris paused before he turned around, looking at her more sternly this time. He took one long drink from his goblet. And took a deep breath.

"I don't owe him an explanation. And I definitely don't owe you one, either."

Merrill sunk in her chair.

"But..." he said abruptly. "... Hawke is still a part of me. I'll never forget my time with him. I don't want anyone, especially him, to think my time in Kirkwall wasn't meaningful. It was just... unfortunate."

He looked down into his cup.

"If it wasn't for that mage..."

"You blame Anders?" Merrill lowered her brow.

"He let him go, Merrill," his voice was just above a growl. "After everything we did for that city, that abomination destroyed it. And Hawke let him go."

Somehow, it seemed like her eyes had gotten even bigger.

"It felt like a waste," he looked away.

"Oh," Merrill folded her hands into her lap. "I never knew you felt that way. Not that I could have done anything. I'm just... I'm just sorry it all happened the way that it did."

"I may have lost a friend, but you," he smiled at her, "you lost your home."

"It's quite alright. I can always rebuild my home," she held her optimism. "And you... you can always make more friends."

Fenris went back to leaning against the bar, looking away from Merrill and out into the tavern. He wasn't interested in friends. Especially not ones of this company. They were too reliant on one another. Too loud. Too laid back. There were already too many of those types in his life. If it wasn't the constant reminder of his connections in Kirkwall, it was the tag-a-longs back in Tevinter. And now these charges Varric had left him. No, he wasn't interested in friends at all...

But...

His eyes slid over to where Aeva was chatting with Ferguson. He appeared to be explaining some sort of game to her. He pointed at a painted board on the wall. The center was red. And around it were black and green squares. He held up three objects; wooden sticks with blades at the front and feathers on the back. Darts. He was holding darts. He held them in a way to show her how to throw them. She nodded with a large smile. A full toothy grin, her eye squinted, and her head back in laughter. She took the darts from his hands and held them up with three of her fingers, a dart between each one. Ferguson shook his head with an unimpressed look. Aeva glanced at the board then back to Ferguson. With a flick of her wrist, the darts were gone. And every single one had landed in the red circle. Ferguson pushed his hands into his hair. Fenris could hear her laugh carry over the whole room.

He wasn't sure if he lost himself in that moment. As if hearing her voice had cast some sort of spell on him. Or if the sight of her beauty showing in a moment of happiness had captured his sight. But he couldn't seem to convince himself to look away. Even as she walked through the small crowd. Even as she looked at him. Even as she approached the bar. It wasn't until she spoke to him that the curse had lifted.

"Who won the bet?"

Fenris blinked, unaware of the smirk on his face. "I'm not sure. It appears to be a close call."

"I'm fairly certain my pull was bigger," she said confidently. "But I've got to admit, I'm impressed with what you did. Doesn't look like you need your sword after all."

"I mostly keep around for it's intimidating appearance."

Aeva laughed and he could feel himself sinking back into her grasp. Fenris took that time to signal the bar keep. He flipped a few coins onto the counter top. The man shuffled away. And Aeva watched him before turning back to Fenris.

"As if you weren't already intimidating enough."

"You seem to enjoy it."

"I suppose I do," she grinned. "Which leaves you with limited options to talk me out of this bet."

"I do have... other ways."

"You've got my attention," she leaned forward.

"There's always flattery."

"Flattery?" her eyes widened in surprise. "Please, I would love to hear it."

Fenris leaned in closely. "I've already bought you two drinks."

Aeva tilted her head to the side. "That was just being polite."

"On the contrary," he leaned back. "I could think of nothing better than buying your drinks tonight."

"That contradicts getting out of the bet."

"My lady," his voice was low and smooth, the first Aeva had heard it. "I have a large amount of coin and the pleasure of accompanying a beautiful woman who has agreed to let me buy her drinks for the entire evening. Losing or no, I'm not forfeiting the bet."

Aeva blinked at him in disbelief, the bass of his voice still humming in her ear. He went back to the goblet and casually took a sip as if he expected her to leave. Buts he didn't. She stood there, tracing his jawline with her eyes. Watching his lips take in the wine.

"Are you flirting with me?" she blurted, wanting to see some sort of emotion from him.

Fenris removed his goblet from his lips, his eyes shooting over the top of it to the keep then back to her.

"Yes."

The man put the drink on the counter and Aeva grabbed the top of it with her hand. Fenris was so absolute. There was no tone. No emotion. But his words were solid. It was odd to her. There was nothing to indicate the truth. Nor the lies.

"You're always this direct," it was a statement more than observation.

"Always," he assured her.

"Why?"

"Because I don't see the point in being indirect when I know what I want."

Aeva opened her mouth to respond, pausing as she struggled to find what to say. Her hand remained clutching the top of her drink, the other tracing the bottom of it with her fingers. Fenris remained unmoved, his eyes looking directly at hers. There was no sign of inebriation. Or hesitation. Or regret. Just a blank stare between the two of them.

"Don't," she finally pointed at him as a warning with her brow raised.

"No promises," he shrugged.

Deciding she could not interpret what he said as a joke or if she could take his advancement seriously, she shook her head with a smile. There was a lot of tension between them that day. He was making light of their situation. And there was wine involved. Which reminded her... she took a long drink of it to calm her nerves, rolled her eyes, and turned to head back toward Ferguson. Fenris watched her take a few steps. But then she paused.

"Come try your hand at darts," she said over her shoulder.

"I should really keep an eye-"

"She's fine. You've been sitting there all night. Come on."

And so he did. With another flick of the coin to the keep, he left with a half filled cup. He followed Aeva through the crowd. He watched the back of her. The long strides. The straight back. The square shoulders. The intimidating glances. The sharp smiles. He watched it all and he followed. For a moment he had this strong feeling. A strange feeling. A feeling that he would follow her to whatever strange fate she lead him to. 


	9. Gates of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of merriment, Aeva wakens to fine tune her arm. She can feel the excitement swell inside her as they near her old clan migration route. Though, the road might have other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters may start looking this length for a bit. Not to worry, though. It's more than likely because of dialogue. Or a fight scene. I'll try to cut narrative descriptions short. 
> 
> Also, to just explain, the group they travel in consists of a good group of people. Scroll to the bottom to get a good idea of how it rolls.

The next morning did not bode well for most. Those who drank until sunrise decided to take turns in the back of the wagon. Those who were up late, but did not drink, managed to obtain a decent meal to rejuvenate their spirits. Then there were those who were used to late night drinks, no sleep, and early mornings. And they were the ones loading the wagon and tending to the horses. Among them was Aeva, nursing a pain in her neck from the night before. She had managed a few hours through the noise. But because of the chair she slept it, it had not been comfortable. In fact, she was looking forward to a cot inside her tent that night.

The goal was to reach Markham within four days. But Aeva could tell they would have been lucky to reach the city within a week with the dragging feet in their midst. She was anxious to get there as it meant that she was nearly home. Markham was one of the cities her clan used to trade with. And beyond it, Aeva knew the roads and forests quite well. It was one of the reasons she was asked to join the caravan. After Ostwick, she was to take over as guide. The smugglers had never traveled that far east with such a large haul. And they were to trust her advice. However, Aeva only knew of one safe passage from Ostwick. It was through a valley in the Vimmark Mountains, to the east along the summit, and then straight into the southern reaches of Markham. Ferguson agreed to this route, though he stated he would have rather preferred the western approach.

"It's not a bad road," Aeva looked at the map sitting next to him atop the wagon. "But it sees more traffic. The goal is to get past the cities without attention. And it would take longer."

"The goal is to also make it to Wycome safely," he grumbled.

"I understand your concern. But the path along the summit is safe. Less traveled, but still safe. The most we'll see is a few bandits. And we'll take care of them long before you have any time to worry."

"You're sure?"

"I grew up on that road, Ferguson. It's the clan's road. We'll be fine. If I know them well, then I know they'll probably still have eyes on it. They've likely opened it as a trader's route."

Aeva stretched, her legs feeling anxious from sitting too long.

"If that's true, perhaps we could start traveling a bit further," he brought his hand to his bearded chin. "Expand our trade."

"Speaking of expanding," she dangled her legs off the side and slid down. "I think I'll walk for a bit."

"Yes, yes," he waved her off without looking up from the map.

Ferguson was a devoted man. Devoted to his country. To his religion. To his work. He was a good man. But he was a simple man. Not there was anything wrong with that. Aeva was often jealous of those who could hold a simpler existence. She rather enjoyed hers before joining the Inquisition. Being back in the eastern Free Marches was a reminder of that. It wasn't quite the same, but it resembled it close enough. What she truly looked forward to were the plains. It was the middle of autumn. And she could already see the golden sea of grass.

The excitement Aeva felt was unlike anything she had felt in long time. There was always the thrill of going somewhere new. Or somewhere dangerous. But this was different. This was an emotion similar to going back to something with a strong feel of nostalgia. She wasn't just going home. She was going back to her old play places. To her training grounds. To her hideouts full of angst. To her heartfelt memories. They were all just a few weeks away. It made her heart swell. Thinking back on it reminded her she was not the only one returning to the land. Ferguson, Iris, and Fenris were all from the Free Marches. While Ferguson had already expressed his love for the coast, Iris was completely silent. The bigger cities made her nervous. But Aeva could tell she enjoyed being in the quiet of the wood as she did. Fenris, however, show nothing at all. Even in Kirkwall, there was no mention of memories. She fell back to the tail of the wagon where Fenris was known to linger.

Asking him about his life in Kirkwall was pointless. It was very clear he cared very little to reminisce. It was also obvious he had not been this far east. Otherwise, Aeva may not have been needed for the mission at all. All in all, there was truly nothing to gain by asking him about those things. There were questions that lingered, however. Many of them. And the more she thought about Fenris, the more they gathered. She was curious about his fighting style. It was nothing like she had seen. And the markings were unique. The night they spent in Ostwick was the first she had seen of them. And she desperately wanted to know more.

"I wanted to ask you something about the night at Ostwick," she said at his side in a serious manner, one she had often used as Inquisitor.

"Yes?"

There was a shift in his eyes and she quickly looked away. His demeanor had changed around her. No one else had noticed. But she could tell he was somehow... lighter with her. The tone in his voice different. And she was avoiding it. Still, she wanted to speak with him. And even with the thought that she could have been questioning him about his flirtatious demeanor, he was still so resolved.

"I've seen you glow like that, but that's the first time I've seen you put your arm through something. As if you were a ghost. Is this only with your arms?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"So... it's your entire body?"

"Yes."

Aeva thought about the lyrium carved into his arms. And down his neck. She imagined what they looked like across his chest down to the very tips of his toes. And the cruelty it must have taken for a person to allow such a thing to happen. It was something of an experiment. While it wasn't exactly comparable, she could still relate to the extent of being used by another person.

"The markings... they're... they're magic."

"They are. Lyrium, actually. A gift from Tevinter."

"Yes," Aeva looked at him briefly. "Dorian mentioned you were a slave."

"I was," the tone lowered.

"And the man that bought you?"

"Is dead."

"Good," she nodded. "Very good."

"I killed him."

"Even better."

"I could tell that was your next question."

"I was given a report about your time with Hawke. But before that is sort of a mystery. Actually," she chuckle slightly to herself, "there was a section of the report mentioning your abilities and tactics that was just a line of question marks. Now, I suppose I know why."

Fenris smirked. "That's an accurate description."

"Do you know the extent of it?"

"Unfortunately, I do not. I can't even it control it at times."

"Does it hurt?" Aeva's eyes finally fell onto him.

Fenris was caught off guard, looking at her as he took offense. But there wasn't any pity to be found. She was genuinely asking from curiosity. He cleared his throat, looking back to the road ahead.

"Yes... Well, sometimes."

"Is there something that triggers the pain?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Yes."

"You're lucky," she said quietly. "I didn't know."

"What?" 

"Being close to the rifts would cause a reaction, but they weren't always painful," she looked down into her metal palm. "I never knew what cause the pain. It only grew worse with time."

In that moment, Fenris wished he had received a report about Aeva just as she had about him. The things he knew about her were widely known. And the things that were not were vaguely mentioned by Varric in their briefing. He knew nothing about the mark other than the fact that it existed. To be frank, what he knew about Aeva just in herself was what he had seen during their travels. It was enough for him to enjoy her company. But talking to her in this way made him feel insecure in being able to truly know her. 

"Is it like that for you? Or have you always felt that way?"

"It's all been the same," he replied. "The only difference is that I've gotten used to it."

"And what about the phasing?" she went on. "Are you limited or is that something you can do all the time?"

"I believe I can sustain it for long periods of time. However, the long I use it, the more difficult it is to focus it on one part of my body."

"So you can only phase with one part for a brief period," she observed. "Does it affect your weapon skills? Do you have other abilities?"

"You're very inquisitive today."

"You're the first person I've met that could do anything that resembled what my mark could," she said intently.

"And what is that?"

"Mostly chaos," she grinned, receiving a similar look in response.

* * *

It grew quiet as the crew looked up the path. This part of the road in particular went up into the mountains. Aeva bit her lip. From what she could recall, it was supposed to dip down into the summit. But now that she thought about it, the dip was closer to the mountain pass into Hercinia than it was to Markham. They could take the high route, which was still likely faster. Then again, the undeniable roar of a fearsome large beast above changed her mind. The crew glanced up, seeing the outline of massive wings against the overheard sun.

"Well..." Ferguson said, his arms crossed and turning to face the woman who lead him to the trailhead. "Still looks safe to me."

The sarcasm in his voice made Aeva roll her eyes.

"Alright. Let's turn around. Head back. We'll have to pass through Markham after all," she grumbled.

"Hold on," Baron held up his hands. "We can't go through the city."

"What do you mean?" the man lowered his brow.

"I've got transcripts going through that indicate this caravan is headed back to Kirkwall from Ostwick. From there, we resume the usual route. If there's any indication we stray from it, we're likely to catch the attention we didn't want."

"You're still being vague," Ferguson narrowed his eyes.

With a sigh, Baron reached into his pouch and handed the caravan's captain a scroll. As he unrolled it, Baron continued to speak despite the man scanning through the words for himself.

"Varric sends word of agents heading east."

"They spotted us in Kirkwall," Aeva speculated.

Baron met her wide eyes which told her everything she needed. With a loud groan, she punched the side of the wagon, causing the horses to stamp as the mass shifted behind them. Fenris, hearing the agitation, joined the three of them. Ferguson handed him the scroll.

"The lady guessed it," he shrugged.

" _Fendehis_ ," she hissed.

"Making an appearance in Markham would mean making ourselves a target."

"Do they know we're headed this direction? Would they know to check the back roads around Markham?" Fenris rolled up the paper in his hand without looking down at it first.

"Not at all," Baron stated. "As I said, I have a paper trail tracing us back to Kirkwall. But they saw us in Kirkwall. And they'll more than likely follow us to Ostwick once they've burned through the other distractions. If we can keep under the radar as much as possible, they'll never know we went further."

"So what do we do?" Fenris turned his gaze to Aeva.

Aeva took a deep breath. "As I said, we'll have to head down. We'll go around Markham if we can. I know a place we can camp just outside the city. We can try to get to the main road from there."

There was a mutter of agreement and Ferguson gave the reins a quick shake to signal he was ready to move. The horses began their pace once again and the rest followed. Aeva looked over her shoulder to Fenris who had made his way to the back of the wagon once again. However, he did not lag behind as he usually did. Instead, he walked up to Baron and handed him the report. There was a short exchange of words when Baron looked at Fenris with surprise. He motioned with his hand, calling Fenris closer. From there, Aeva could not tell what was said, but it had Fenris intrigued.  
  
The transition into the flat lands of the Free Marches was smooth, despite the road being at a slight decline. The fact that they had been traveling through the valley between the mountains to get to Markham was certainly one that put them at ease. Ferguson leaned against the wagon, the reins in his lap and his feet propped forward as the horses trotted lightly down the road. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the crisp fall weather, as well. A few of the crew members whistled songs in tune with another. Merrill smiled and nodded along. And even Fenris seemed less irritated watching them all from the back. Baron had been sitting on the back of the wagon, going through a few transcripts and trying to write notes to send along. Aeva herself was walking next to Iris who she found quite pleasant to be around as the woman had little to say. It never felt awkward being around her in silence, either. Which was exactly what Aeva needed from time to time. Though, when she spoke, it was always worth heading.

"What is that?" she said, her eyes picking up movement just ahead.

Aeva looked up and she could see it as well.

"Hail!" an arm waved from a tall figure far ahead.

As the caravan grew closer, Ferguson could see a man. He was dressed in a warm light leather coat, fur lined around the neck in a Ferelden fashion. His pants were tucked into tall boots that came to his knees. And on his back was a very large bag. Judging by the size of him, it was easy to see he had no trouble carrying it. His eye squinted from his smile being so large. And there was a streak of red across his nose. Ferguson could guess it was from a bit of ale and found it to be true when his eyes spotted a small flask attached to his hip.

"Could I trouble you for some company?" he shouted as Ferguson came clearer into view.

Ferguson glanced to Aeva and Iris, but Aeva had already dipped to the other side of the wagon as not to be seen. Iris looked back, catching Fenris's scowl. She nodded in response, turning to face her leader again and mimicking the same scowl. Ferguson smirked, looking back out to the man.

"Suppose we don't have much choice," he replied.

"Aha," the man rubbed his hand across his chest. "So you are headed to Markham. Lucky me."

As the wagon approach him, the man began to walk. His left side had a slight limp, but that didn't seem to drag his spirits down in the least. In fact, it added a unique pep to his step.

"It's been dangerous around here lately," he said looking up to Ferguson.

"That so?" the old man's attention was caught.

"Aye," the young man nodded. "Dunno where the dragon came from, but forced the guard back into town. Haven't been able to contact any hunters yet, so the folks stay close. It's been easy pickings for the bandits since so few hit the road these days."

"Dragons are nasty business," Ferguson agreed.

"No one's even been close to getting up there," the man sighed. "Whatever it's doing , it's wiping out the summit path. People think it's nesting."

"Shame there aren't more dragon slayers around," Ferguson cast a knowing glance to Iris, who shot a look over her shoulder to Fenris.

"Even if there were, there's a good chance they'll get robbed. Those elven thieves are relentless."

Aeva's ears shot up from the back of the caravan. Pushing her way though her crew, she grew closer to the front.

"Elves?" Ferguson adjusted his seating. "Surely not the Dalish?"

"Dunno," the man shrugged.

"Have you contacted the Dalish?" Aeva asked.

"Contact?" he chuckled, briefly casting his gaze to the woman behind him. "No one contacts the Dalish."

"I mean in Wycome."

"The clan in Wycome is only-" as he turned around, their eyes met.

* * *

_The flowers were blooming early that spring. The air was still cold that time of year, but that did not stop them from sitting in the the open field. The sun was bright above, giving warmth to the ground below. And the colors were more vibrant than ever. He had taken her hand, insisting that they would only have a small window for the early flowers before the next cold wind would take them. After that, the field would only be green. She followed him, her fingers intertwined with his._

_"Kamen slow down," she laughed, pulling him towards her._

_"I'll slow down when I can have some peace with you," he panted._

_"We're fine," she assured him, dropping to her knees into the field. "As long as we don't do anything suspicious, no one will bat an eye at us."_

_"Well," he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands digging into the ground around him, "what exactly would you describe as suspicious?"_

_"For one," she pushed him slightly aside. "I would say a devilish shem alone with a young elf."_

_"Devilisssssshhh... ly handsome?" the tone rose in his voice, his fingers working on something she could not see._

_"Rightly so," she wagged a finger at him. "Which makes your case even worse."_

_"Go on," he looked down to focus on his work._

_"And he's terribly close to her," she crawled, her chin resting on his shoulder. "Very threatening."_

_"She must be terrified."_

_"Oh!" she turned so her back was now leaning against his. "She is... very much so."_

_"It makes sense," she felt him turn and suddenly something was placed on her head, "that the clan would want to protect it's princess."_

_Aeva reached up, feeling a poorly woven flower crown atop her head. As she did, petals fell in front of her face. It drooped down over one eye and she giggled. He leaned over, lifting it from her face. Their eyes met. Hers a piercing green. His a calming blue. And the gaze between them was a place of peace. He leaned forward, his lips capturing hers under a clear blue sky. A horn blew nearby, scattering the birds in the field. They jumped, laughing shortly after at their embarrassment. Their restless hearts fell into the field. And there they remained until the elders would call later that evening._

* * *

"Aeva?"

"K-Kamen..." his name was slow from her mouth.

"Andraste's laced knickers..."

The two of them stopped amidst the moving caravan. Ferguson pulled on the rains, halting the horses before they went any further. Fenris, confused on the other side, rounded the back of the wagon in order to understand the situation further. But what he saw was a human man, a large smile on his face, with Aeva's hands in his own. He looked at her with more than just excitement. It was complete adoration. With a small grunt and a grimace on his face, Fenris turned his back to them, taking a seat on the back of the wagon.

"What are you doing here?" Aeva looked down at his hands encasing her own.

"The same thing I've been doing," he chuckled. "I'm a traveling merchant."

"Where's your caravan? Your father?"

"Oh, well. He runs a shop in Markham. I just do the running around."

"You finally settled in Markham?" 

"Well, it was here or Ansburg. And you know dad."

"There's not a chance he'd step foot in that place," her smile transformed into a full toothed grin.

"Never mind me," he let go of her hands and turned to face the wagon. "What is this?"

"Oh," her eyes widened. "This?"

Kamen's eyes focused on her face. They caught her hesitation long before she made any sign of it. And that was difficult to do as Aeva's face had very little tell of a lie. Unfortunately, Kamen knew Aeva well. He knew her before her training. Before she was capable of hiding her true self. And there was something special about that elven woman. Something that refused to hide.

"Wait," he held his hands up. "You don't have to say a thing."

Fenris peered cautiously from behind the cart. Ferguson was naturally suspicious as well, being careful as not to appear too overbearing when he listened to the conversation.

"I had nearly forgotten," he took her metal arm back into his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," she placed her other hand atop his. 

"I think it would be best, for whatever reason," he looked directly at Fenris, who was watching him intently, "that I ask no more questions."

"Then if you don't mind," Aeva stated, "I'd like to ask _**you**_ a few."

"Well sure."

"Do you know anything of elven bandits?"

"I'm afraid not. I only received word a few days ago."

"Where exactly was it that you came from?" Ferguson leaned off the side of the cart.

"A small village to the west. I don't get to do a lot of trading in the bigger cities. You know. Because of the constant war."

"You said it was dangerous," Ferguson narrowed his eyes. "But yet you're out here all alone."

"Trading is all I got, pal," Kamen held his arms out wide. "I either die on the road or die starving back home."

"Speak of which," Aeva drew his attention back to her. "The bandits. Are they recent?"

"I don't think so," he crossed his arms. "There have been reports of attacks on the road to Starkhaven. Missing cargo, slaughtered men, abandoned wagons. The typical signs of bandits. They've probably just migrated south to take advantage of the collapsed road to Hercinia."

"The Raiders aren't going to like that," Iris whispered up to Ferguson.

"How close are they getting to Markham? Do you think we'd be safe at the old camp?"

"You mean the old Lavellan camping grounds?"

"Yes, that one."

"I, uh," he glanced around him to the rest of her crew. "I don't know. That's a bit far isn't it? Is that where you're headed?"

"That was the plan," she sighed. "We haven't had much luck since we've left Ostwick."

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Not a lot comes out of that place anymore. Um, well, if you're headed to Markham, I could help you out."

"No," she said abruptly. "We're avoiding the city."

"Al... right... " he reached to the strap of his pack to adjust it. "I take it you're avoiding attention, then."

"Smart boy," Fenris rolled his eyes.

"For now," Aeva replied.

"If that's all it is, I can help you get across the city. No one would think twice."

The man in front of her was not the boy she knew years ago, though he was desperately trying to be. A lot changed a person from their adolescence to their adult years. It wasn't possible that the sparkle in his eye was the same as it was back then. Kamen was a free spirited boy who was honest and kind. This suggestion of generosity somehow seemed forced. Perhaps he felt pressured to help Aeva after all the years they spent together. Or perhaps she was being paranoid.

"I might be grateful for a bit of help," she smiled.

"Hold on," Ferguson straightened in his seat."Perhaps we should discuss this."

"It's alright," Aeva looked up at him with a wink. "We're in good hands."

"Wait here," Kamen nodded. "I'll be back soon. Just... just hang tight, alright?"

Ferguson, Iris, Aeva, and Fenris all watched as Kamen took off down the road. It was a slight jog with a hobbled lean to it, but it was a finely quick pace. His legs were terrible long, after all. They waited until he was out of sight before their welcoming glances turned to worry and frustration. Baron and Merrill had finally come to the front of the wagon to check on the condition of their travel.

"Is everything all right?" Merrill asked when she was close to Aeva.

"Yes, everything is fine," Ferguson waved at her. "Our fearless leader has decided to take the helping hand of a kind gentlemen we just met."

"Oh, how nice," she smiled.

Fenris rolled his eyes. "A word?" he said, making firm eye contact with Aeva.

Without waiting for her to turn around, he marched to the back of the wagon as the caravan began to spread out. Iris had began to circulate the new plan among the other members. That was when the grumbling began. It had appeared Ferguson and Fenris were not the only ones who disagreed with Aeva. She cared very little.

"Do you honestly trust him?" he stopped as they rounded the back.

"No," Aeva said following.

"Unless my ears deceive me, I believe you said we were in good hands."

Only listening partially, she opened the canvas curtains to the back of the wagon. The mirror was still covered. But she climbed into it regardless to check the ropes.

"We are in good hands," she assured him while throwing various crates atop it.

"You don't find it odd that he was on this road. Someone only you would know?"

"I find it very suspicious," she was now dragging barrels to the back of the wagon to hide it was there at all.

"Aeva, what the hell are you thinking?"

She climbed over the rest of the cargo and jumped down from the back of the wagon.

"Do these look like good hands to you?" she held out her hands, one from flesh and the other from metal.

Fenris looked at them for a moment. Then back to Aeva. He was still very clearly annoyed.

"Do you want to get ambushed on the back roads? Or would you at least like to make it through the city first where we can gather supplies?"

"Will we even make it to the city?"

"Kamen's not stupid," she said. "Trust me."

He looked back down at her hands, only now she was wiggling her fingers up at him.

"Oh, alright," he huffed. "I trust you. But we have to get something on him."

"I agree. Iris," she called without turning.

"Yes, m'lady?"

"Follow him into the city. If you see anything strange, signal for us."

"Of course."

Aeva need not check to see if Iris was doing as she asked. Iris was a very direct person. Once asked to complete a task, she was gone. And if it was within her skill set, that being one of requiring a light foot, she would often disappear without anyone to notice. Fenris only caught the glimpse of the back of her dark hair as she took off into the trees toward the city.

"Any more suggestions?"

The way she was standing was something similar to what he had witnessed before. The shoulders. The neck. The look in her eyes. It was her commanding stance. Again, he felt himself shrink a bit. It was strange the power she had in just her face alone. With a smirk, he straightened himself. To stand against it was... exhilarating. This was what he comrades must have felt. Her soldiers. Her people. There was an inspiration to it that he could describe, but it still felt familiar. It felt like being next to him again.

"No, ma'am," replied in jest.

* * *

The caravan had decided to move a bit forward as the sun was setting. Kamen had not yet arrived. And Iris was nowhere to be seen. Aeva began to find it suspicious that he would have them wait so far from city gate. Especially knowing those gates would close soon. Ferguson made a makeshift plan to have half the group leave with Aeva and Merrill to the Dalish camp while the others moved through the city. It would split them up and give someone at least a small advantage while also leaving the option of the wagon acting as a traveling caravan of refugees and not a band of merchants.

Just as the plan began to take shape, they saw the same figure of Kamen without the large pack strapped to his back. With it gone, it allowed them to see the full extent of his measure. His shoulders were incredibly large, making it easy for him to carry loads to and from the nearby villages. This time, however, he only carried a satchel. And from it, he began to withdraw a red cloth.

"Grab the corners," he shook it out as he got close.

Aeva held fast and watched as he spread it across the top of the wagon with his long arms. He pinned down his side, moving quickly to the other where he ushered Aeva away. She began to wonder at what point he had gotten so big. It wasn't his weight in general, just simply his size. Then again, his father was always a giant man as well. And he was always honestly bigger than most. She remembered briefly what it was like to be held next to him. She always felt so small, but safe.

"There we have it," he stood back looking at his handy work.

"Is this the old family crest?" she asked, her hands at her hips.

"It is indeed. We used to fly these on all of our wagons."

"Used to? Kamen... what happened?"

"Oh, nothing that doesn't happen to business from time to time. We're just in a rough spot is all," he waved her away casually. "So, I've told the guard a wagon of ours had fallen behind. I dropped the things off at my shop. I can get you into the city. But I don't think we can get you out until tomorrow morning."

"That's fair," Ferguson shrugged. "We could use some supplies."

"Great," Kamen nodded. "Let's get going, then. I don't want to be out here when the sun goes down."

Aeva glanced over to Fenris, exchanging a look of knowing as he observed her carefully. He must have felt her hesitancy, otherwise he would not be watching her. It was only a second of weakness. Or at least, that was what she told herself. Deep down, she damned her heart for being so soft to those that were kind to hear. She wish Kamen had ripped her heart out. It would have made distrusting him easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smugglers caravan hails out of Kirkwall. It's known for it's business with the mages. They mainly sell magical items from one Circle to another. It eventually turned into somewhat of a relief wagon when the war hit, taking goods to mage and templar refugee camps abandoned by the Chantry and Templar Order. The merchant side, which sells magical items, is ran by Baron, an old friend of Varric's from the Merchants Guild. He makes sure the caravan appears legit. A few of the other members are actual merchants as well. The other crew is definitely of the smuggler kind. They are with Ferguson, their leader. And his second in command, Iris. Ferguson keeps his men honest. Though the goods they smuggle aren't always on the light side of morality. As long as it pays good, they can be hired to smuggle whatever. Unless it's slaves or children. The caravan consists of two wagons. Both for cargo and supplies. I guess I should have specified that earlier. It didn't start out that way. But I'll make sure to include both wagons from now on. The main cart is pulled by two horses. The other by one. And two more horses are trailing behind with men on horseback. So all together I'd say we have five horses, our six main characters (Ferguson, Baron, Iris, Aeva, Fenris, and Merrill), three merchants, and four smugglers. Thirteen total. I'd say out of the seven fillers, at least five of them have combat experience. Merrill is also the only mage, and she was not even supposed to be on the caravan until Aeva convinced Fenris to let her come along.
> 
> I can go into detail of why Aeva and Fenris were asked to do this mission later. I don't want to spoil anything.


	10. The Merchant's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After agreeing to Kamen's adamant suggestion, Aeva and company follow Kamen into the city of Markham. There, they are taken down a rather less traveled route. To something more of an outskirt for the citizens of a lower degree.

Kamen lived on the outskirts of south-side Markham. It was where a lot of common folk lived. Not the common folk who whistled while they washed their clothes in the soap bin. But the type who bought rice in bulk hoping it would last the winter. The only kind of whistling they did was to call their children home. When the lanterns came out, they knew it was too dangerous to be in the street. The cobblestone streets were warn, missing bricks in places and revealing overgrown patches of dry weeds. The houses looked as if they were made of repurposed wood, most of them gray with mismatched roof tiles. And many of the homes had wagons in front of them, though there were often wheels missing or a tear in the canvas or broken boards. In the center of a rounded street was a stall where several mules stomped nervously when they saw the horses coming down the road.

"I'm sorry, but a few of the horses will have to be tied up. We don't have much room in the stalls. And the barn is out of commission for the time. For horses, anyway."

Aeva looked around and saw a rather large barn on the far side of the circle behind a cottage. Part of the barn's roof had collapsed. And the cottage looked as if it were leaning. There was a faint light inside and a stream of smoke coming from the chimney.

"But, the barn is stable enough for the wagons. Probably a few of you to sleep? I'd offer you a place to sleep inside, but we haven't anymore room. But I could-"

"That's alright," Aeva smiled gratefully. "I'll sleep in the barn."

"I thought-"

"I wouldn't mind a warm place to sleep," Ferguson rolled his shoulders, blatantly interrupting the lad. "An old man's bones are creaking as of late. "

Fenris eye him suspiciously as Ferguson gave a quick wink.

"Why don't you take the wagon with Aeva for the night?" he said to him. "I'm going to look for an inn."

Fenris wasn't willing to give away his intentions to the old man just yet. But he had a feeling Ferguson already knew what his plans were for the evening. He made sure they didn't happen but giving him instructions to stay. For an older gentlemen, his stare was still intimidating.

"Aeva, I'd hate for you to sleep in that rickety thing," he gestured to the barn with his thumb as the crew began to wheel the wagons to the barn. "I could get a cot set up? Maybe send you to the inn with the old man with some coin?"

"No thank you, Kamen," she shook her head. "I'll be fine in the barn."

"Stubborn as ever," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I was hoping we could have a moment. Alone. To catch up, you know?"

Aeva's face dropped.

"Oh..."

She had been trying to avoid this conversation. A helping hand was tolerable. Welcoming, even. But there was something about sitting down with her old friend that made her feel uneasy. The reconnecting of two people with emotions that were left drifting through time. Not that Kamen was the love of her life. Kamen was special, true. But he was a friend who shared her interests. Nothing more. Still, she wondered why she was having trouble with him.

"That would be fine, I suppose," she lowered her brow, showing a bit of concern.

As he helped unhitch the horses, Fenris watched Aeva follow the large man to the cottage. He seemed rather cheerful, waving his hands as he spoke to her. He opened the door. And Aeva gave him a brief smile. The elf sighed, shaking his head and turning back to the wagon.

* * *

The inside of the cottage felt more like a warehouse than anything. Inside were stacks of crates, a crudely patched sofa between a few of them against the wall. There was a stand with various packs among them. The pack Kamen had worn earlier had been thrown next to the door. There was a desk on the left side, papers and books strewn about. More books were stacking to the side. And there was a shelf full of various things. Beyond that was door that was shut. But there was a glow around it as if a lantern were barely lit inside.

"You don't have to worry about Pa," he said, seeing Aeva look to the door. "He's in bed. Has been for awhile."

"Is he ill?" she followed him, stepping over the piles of junk across the floor to the kitchen.

"He is," he began to clear a place at a small round table next to the fireplace. "Don't really know what happened. He just... got sick."

"I'm sorry," she began to help him.

"It's alright," he scratched the top of his head, looking for what she assumed was the kettle. "It's been a little rough the last year or so. But it's alright."

"Kamen, I don't think we've spoken in years. Why don't you explain what happened?"

"Oh, you don't want to hear that sad story," he had finally found the kettle but realized he had no water.

Giving up, he tossed the kettle into the other room. It hit the couch and made a loud clanking sound as it hit the floor. Sifting through the crates on the counter, he found what appeared to be a bottle of wine. He opened the cork and peered inside. It must have been good enough because he quickly found two small wooden cups. He picked one up, sniffed the inside, and shrugged.

"I promise it isn't as sad as mine," she attempted to persuade him.

"Well... alright... sounds like we'll need this, then..."

He handed her the cup full of wine. It was dark and smelled bitter. But she wasn't one to turn down a drink. She took a sip, immediately tensing as she flicked her tongue to get rid of the taste. Kamen laughed as he pulled himself on the counter. Aeva was going to sit on a small wooden chair nearby, but upon further inspection... it only had three legs. So she leaned against the table instead.

"Let's see... the last time we spoke, you were still village hopping, weren't you?"

Aeva thought for a moment. The last time she recalled them having an actual conversation, she had met him at a tavern. It was when she ended their relationship. She gulped down a heavy mouthful of wine. Luckily, she did remember a few times they had happened to cross paths on the outskirts of a few villages.

"Yes," she nodded, finally. "You were still traveling quite a bit."

"We were doing really well. I was old enough to branch out with my own supplies. And Pa was heading the other direction. We were covering a lot of ground. Making good coin."

"That's right. You were... enjoying every bit of it."

"Uh... yeah..." the awkward guilt crept onto the back of his neck. "Well, we were trading with your clan. A good bulk of our goods were furs from your hunters. And other things like bones and jars of fat. Stuff like that. But then the Breach happened."

"The clan was pushed further east," she leaned forward.

"And out of our trade route," Kamen's brow lowered. "We made attempts... but it just got to be too dangerous. There were bandits. Not to mention demons. By the time we had contacted your clan, they had already settled behind the walls of Wycome. We had no idea if they were dead or alive."

Kamen took a deep breath.

"It was some time, but news finally reached Markham that Clan Lavellan had taken over the alienage. And Wycome became a united city. Which is great, really..." he trailed off. "Pa and I packed everything we had to get to them. Traveled for days through hell just to make it there. Only to be turned down. Our contract had been nulled. There was no more fur. No more bones. No more of those weird potions. We got nothing."

Aeva looked into her cup of dark red wine.

"So we headed back to Markham. We bought this place, a few merchant stalls, and we started doing business here. We used the last of what we had to settle down. Opened up a shop. And for a good while, it was great. We had wagons hauling goods from Hercinia to Ansburg to Ostwick. And the little villages in between. Things were alright. Until Pa got sick."

There was a gut wrenching pain in Aeva's side. It gave her the courage she needed to take another large drink. Kamen slid off the countertop, looking around the room as if he was reminiscing about how grand it once was. But they both knew it was never a beautiful home. Kamen and his father had been living in a hovel so that they could travel. Now that his father was sick, they were trapped inside their home. The junk around the house was just the remains of their once exciting life.

"I pay a little old lady to run the one stall we have left in the market. And I go from village to village selling trinkets. I stay close. I stay strong. And I stay humble."

"A toast to that," she raised her cup.

He raised his in reply, tapping his cup to hers. They turned them up, downing whatever remained. They gagged, Kamen covering his mouth as he wasn't sure if the lump he swallowed was a bug or something else.

"Now," he said between breaths. "What sort of sob story do you have?"

"Oh," she smiled up at him. "I don't think I could beat a story like that..."

"Well if it has anything to do with why your face tattoos are gone, I'd like to hear it."

Aeva laughed. "No... that's another story... for another time..."

* * *

Aeva found Fenris leaning against the barn's door frame when she left the cottage. He stood arms and legs crossed watching her intently as she held her arms open, a bottle of wine clenched in one hand.

"I've come bearing gifts," she grinned.

"I’ve already seen what it does."

"Ah, yes. You _**were**_ watching the whole time. Then you know you have to try it."

"No thank you."

But she slammed it into his chest anyway.

"Tastes like shit, but it's strong," she wagged a finger in the air without looking behind her.

"You lied to him. About what happened to the Inquisition."

"I didn't lie," she turned around to face him, a red streak visible on her face now that she was under a lantern. "I just didn't tell him everything. And why should I?"

"I thought you know him."

"I _**used**_ to know him. People change."

"That they do," he sniffed the bottle.

"What should I tell him? That I, a Dalish elf, called the _**Herald of Andraste**_ ," she said the title with a mocking tone, "fought against a false God and allowed a real one to take advantage of me? And because of that, I disbanded the Inquisition for my own selfish reasons? That sounds very heroic of me."

"You sound like you needed to get that off your chest," he walked toward her, taking a drink casually. "I'm glad you lied."

"I didn't lie."

She took the bottle back from him, taking a swig before shoving it back.

"Well one of you did," he tapped the bottle. "That's for certain."

* * *

Ferguson sat, feet propped upon the nightstand in the usual way that he did. In his hand was a small pipe he managed to procure from one of the packs he brought along to the inn. He sat patiently, puffing away, watching the smoke billow out of the window and into the city streets. He had found a rather nice establishment blocks away from the rougher looking district in which the remainder of his crew resided. This was more central. More people. More noise. No one would hear the elf on the roof.  
"Any second now," he said loud enough for her to hear him.

With a soft _**whoosh**_ , Iris came swinging into his room. Her feet lifted high enough to avoid Ferguson's legs. She landed inches away from the bed, wobbling before she fell onto it, looking back at him with disdain. Ferguson chuckled, tucking his legs back in and setting his pipe on the window sill.

"Glad you could make it."

"Baron's not a hard man to find."

"I knew I should have left him at the barn."

"At least he's quiet tonight."

"And the streets? How quiet were they?"

"Not at all."

"What did they say?"

"Nothing good," she shook her head. “Nothing good at all.”

Ferguson’s brow furled. “Tell me what you know. Then head out to tell the others. Make sure they’re ready. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

* * *

When Fenris woke, it was with a sense of urgency in the pit of his stomach. He didn't wait for the sun to rise. And he hadn't take off any of his armor. He looked around the loft spotting several of the other smugglers who were still drifting in and out as one does during an early morning slumber. He felt the need to ready the horses, but as he climbed down the ladder, one of the wagons were no longer there. A panic fell over him for a moment. He rushed to the barn door, slamming it open. Only for him to realize the horses were already hitched. And the others were waiting nearby, tied to a post with feed bags over their snouts. One of them began to stamp happily, recognizing him as he gave it a slight pat on the neck.

Looking over the wagon, he could hear a slight rustle inside.

"A bit early, even for you, isn't it?" he asked the person inside.

"I couldn't sleep," Aeva answered, lifting her head through the canvas flap. "What are you doing?"

"I thought it would be best to get an early start."

"I had that same thought," she climbed out of the back. "I've got the mirror secured a bit better. Shouldn't be an issue hitting those tough roads anymore. I don't think we should slow down once we leave this place."

"Seems we're all on the same page this morning," Ferguson's voice was heard before he was seen.

He came around the cart, Iris behind him, and the others following her. Ferguson was not a morning person. Still, it struck Aeva as odd to see him not only up this early, but looking so distraught. Iris seemed bothered as well. And the others seemed concerned, but ready to leave in a moment's notice. Even if they were still incredibly tired.

"Iris managed to gather the things you needed," he said as Iris threw her a pack.

Aeva grabbed it, looking inside. There were several alchemical ingredients. She did not have time to mix them. But having them was better than not at all. Rummaging around the pack, he had did feel an oddly shaped flask. She pulled it out, the contents swirling a dark purple liquid.

"Wyvern venom?" she looked at her sneaky comrade with a satisfied grin.

"Have fun with it," Iris winked.

"Indeed. My gratitude. I had nearly forgotten about these items."

Iris simply nodded.

"I'm glad I didn't need anything," Fenris crossed his arms looking at the lot of them.

"We got you a little something, too," Ferguson lifted up what he was holding.

It was a small basket of eggs.

"How delightful," the elf took the basket, his attention drawn to Aeva who's vision shot over to the cottage.

She looked to Iris, who also appeared interested in the home. Their eyes met and with a quick nod, Iris took off toward the eastern side of the district. Ferguson watched her, tucking his hands into his pockets. Aeva turned, taking an egg from Fenris's basket.

"Go wake the others. We don't have much time."


	11. Her Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a unanimous decision to leave Kamen's cottage, Ferguson orders the group to pack up. They prepare for the worst. But do not expect Kamen to agree to tag along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I've written. There's a big fight scene towards the end. About 13 paragraphs long. I'm sorry! >.< I love writing fight scenes and I get so excited and I just... GO with it. So you can skip past it if you want. But if you DO read it, could you please leave some feedback? I want to know if what I'm writing makes sense. 
> 
> ***TRIGGER WARNING: Violence. A lotta violence.***
> 
> Thanks for everything! <3

"There's no question, there will be an ambush," Ferguson's party was tightly circled around him.

Several of them had changed expressions, but most remained blank. Aeva had not gotten to know many of the crew members. Most of them did their best to stay away from her. But she knew not all of them were fighters. It was a tough decision, but after Ferguson gave their details of what Iris had heard, she knew she had to prepare them.

"We don't know when, but we're guessing it's not going to happen until after we leave Markham."

"How do you know?" one of them asked, drawing his cloak tightly around him.

"Iris came back last night. She had been asking around town about those bandits. They are targeting only large merchant caravans. Ones with more than one troop. With large wagons. Like ours."

"There are agents coming. From Kirkwall," Aeva pitched in. "We were hoping we could lose them there. Or at least at Ostwick. "

"Word had gotten to them in Starkhaven. They've been patrolling the northern road," Ferguson stated abruptly.

"And now they know we're here," Aeva looked across them. "So not only do we have the agents to worry about them from the easy... but they're coming from the north as well. We could be over run."

"Do you think they'll come from Wycome, too?" another asked.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Aeva shrugged. "But my bet is the ones in Wycome will stay there. They're probably waiting for me. It's not going to be easy from here out."

"We've already mapped an alternate route. Again," he eyed Aeva.

"Right. The summit path is off limits. And we can't take the main road like we planned. We'll be going along the old aravel paths through the heart of the Free Marches."

"That's going to make crossing the river to Wycome a bit of uh... difficult... uh... how are we crossing the river?"

"We'll discuss it later," Aeva nodded. "These agents are not just spies. They're trained assassins. And they're stealthy. I've sent word to Varric, but there won't be reinforcements. We're on our own."

"Aeva here is a good fighter," Ferguson went on.

"She is, I've seen it," a burly man stated, which Aeva quickly recognized as the one who helped Fenris carry the mirror.

"There's also Fenris and Merrill, both who have fought next to the Champion of Kirkwall. And of course, myself and Iris who you have known for many years. Still, if you feel uncomfortable about this situation, you are more than welcome to stay behind."

"However," Aeva added, "if you choose to stay, know that you could possibly still be in danger."

"I've arranged for two rooms to stay open for anyone who wants remain behind. Varric will be sending troops, formerly employed by the Inquisition, for your retention. But it will be some time before they arrive."

There was a soft muttering among the men and women of the caravan. Aeva stepped away, fearing her presence would only intimidate them into making a decision. She walked to the back of the wagon where Merrill sat, patiently waiting.

"You don't seem nervous," she said watching as Aeva began to go through the pack Iris gave her.

"I'm not."

"You've fought these agents before?"

"A few times," Aeva shrugged. "They're all a little different. But one thing stays the same. They'll target me. Every time."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No," she was focused, reaching into her own pack now to find vials. "He'll learn eventually that it doesn't matter how many he sends... I'll kill them all."

Merrill opened her mouth to speak, but decided it was best she didn't. There was something different about Aeva. Her jaw was clenched, eyes intense, and her brow was bent. Her mind was already in the midst of battle long before it would ever begin. The mage slid from the wagon, leaving her to prepare. As Aeva was left to silence, though, the only thing she wanted was to slam her fists into the wagon. The background noise faded and all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. Her vision started to darken. And then... the whispers came.

It was like little specs of rain. The first drizzle before the storm. They were quiet, fleeting like a child dashing from one room to another. One became loud. Then hushed so another could speak. They took turns, but there were too many of them to make out the words. Some of it was elven. But some of it was not. She felt her grip tighten underneath her, though she did not know what she was holding onto. Everything became loud all at once. And then the sound of glass shattering snapped her awake. Her eyes shot to the mirror, still covered, the sheet billowing for just a moment. Aeva looked down at her metal hand, seeing the vial that broke under her grasp.

"Are you alright?" a voice asked.

She turned to see Merrill. Aeva's face grew cross as she glanced back to the mirror. What felt like minutes was only seconds. Merrill had not even taken ten steps away from the wagon. Aeva looked down to the glass. She was lucky it was not her other hand. Slowly she nodded. Merrill once again attempted to leave.

"Merrill," Aeva called after her. "Merrill, would you sit with me for a minute? I think... I think I just need someone to..."

"Keep you company?" the mage smiled kindly.

"Yes," Aeva nodded gratefully. "Yes, that's right."

* * *

A few hours passed before Kamen came out of the cottage. The sun had just crested over the horizon, bringing a glorious light with it. Though that night had been cold, the morning brought a hint of warmth into the new day. Still, Kamen appeared with a coat over his shoulder and a steaming cup in his hand. Apparently, he had managed to find water and boil it that morning.

"Hard to sleep with all the ruckus. I didn't think we'd be leaving so soon."

"We?" Fenris shot up from sharpening his sword.

"I didn't want to trouble you," Aeva replied, shooting a glance in Fenris's direction. "It seems there's a change of plans. We need to leave immediately."

"Alright then," he took a sip of his hot tea. "I'll just grab my pack on the way out."

"Kamen," Aeva inched closer to him, her voice low. "Things have gotten complicated. I don't think it-"

"Aeva," he replied in the same low manner, looking at her over his cup of tea. "You won't make it out of the city before mid-day without me. Allow me to escort you."

With a heavy sigh, Aeva dropped her shoulders. "Alright."

"Tell your crew we leave within the hour," he glanced about them.

The tone in his voice had changed suddenly, sending an odd chill down the back of Aeva's spine. She turned around, looking at Ferguson. Then to Fenris. Then the rest of the men who remained. Something was off. But she couldn't tell if it was her own group or something Kamen had said. She clenched her fists, fighting the paranoia that tried to claw it's way back into her head. Before she could sink below the surface of her own mind, a hand grasped her on the shoulder.

"Do you think your concoctions are ready?" Merrill asked with the same kind smile she had always given Aeva.

"I'm sure they are. Let's have a look."

The poisons Aeva had brewed in the flash were not quite ready. But she was certain by the time they reached the city's outskirts, they would be nice and fatal. The flasks she quickly threw together were also readied on her belt, though she wasn't sure how potent they would be as the ingredients she used were not what she was used to. Iris had done an excellent job at procuring the items required, but there were still just some things out of reach. Iris, herself, was out of touch, still refusing to show herself, wherever she may be. That part of the plan was never discussed. And Iris simply remained unknown.

The hour passed and the crew was readied. The horses were hitched. The wagons packed. The crew, or what remained of it, had managed to throw on every weapon they had in the cart. Three of the members had left, leaving them with a remaining four. Three of those four were fighters. And the last one was a simple merchant who stated he wanted to see the adv enter through. Aeva had given him one of her acid flasks for an emergency. Kamen lead the group, his head high and his hand clutching the strap to his pack. This one was not as large. And it seemed it only contained what he needed for the short journey. He insisted on leading the caravan out of the city and a few miles ahead to ensure their safety.

Now the walk through the city was a dreadfully eerie one. While the people bustled about their daily lives, Aeva and her crew trudged silently through the streets. Kamen, blissfully unaware of how dire the situation truly was, whistled loudly ahead. He took them through the lower districts, some as disheveled as his own. As the houses began to thin out, Ferguson began to notice the beginnings of farmland. He sat up in his seat.

"I didn't expect you to be taking us this way," he looked around.

"It's not the most popular route. But going directly through the city with two wagons and five horses would have been a little difficult. I thought you wanted secrecy?"

Ferguson's eyes shot over the open fields with their tall grass. He held his breath.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"We wanted to exit through a common place," she walked quickly to catch up to him. "Closer to the eastern road."

"Relax," he held up a hand. "Merchants take this way out all the time."

Just as he stopped speaking, a voice shouted across the vast space from a house in the distance. Kamen looked up to find an older gentleman waving his hand through the air. Kamen waved back with a large smile.

"See? Simple good folk out here. They'll never know the difference. I'll get you to the east road. Don't worry."

Kamen did in fact make good on his word. The eastern side of Markham was surrounded in fields. It crested over to the north side, as well, and stretched for miles. There were times they felt they had been walking for hours, but when they turned to look at the city it had barely moved. And it wasn't just fields, it was houses and stalls. Most of them small and scattered. But there was the occasional large building. Surprisingly enough, there were also people surrounding them in one direction or another. A person here, two there. Some were workers. Some were dressed in robes. Some were just strolling by, looking at the harvest. Other wagons were seen, as well. Their drivers would wave to Kamen and then keep heading toward to the city.

"It's like a whole nother city out here," a smuggler muttered.

"Markham is a place of both culture and agriculture," Ferguson stated. "The farming here is incredible. And with the college being nearby, a lot of the funding goes into it from scholars studying what comes out of the farmland."

"Agronomists," Kamen said.

"I'm sorry what?" Ferguson cocked his head.

"That's what they call themselves," he gestured to the fields. "Agronomists. They study the soil and the harvest. And the animals, too. It's mostly what you're looking at now."

"It's all fancy farming," Ferguson frowned. "I suppose it's better than Ansburg."

Kamen and Ferguson both spit on the road at the same time. Their intentions met and they stared at each keenly before giving a solid nod. There was another long silence from that point. Kamen still whistling as the wagons followed behind him. They curved along the road and at their west hand, they could see the towers of the college in Markham. If they turned facing south, they could see where the city was tucked into the base of the mountain. And just barely peaking through one the hills, they could see the Circle.

"Do you think they'll be alright with the dragon about?" Merrill asked.

"They're definitely fine," Kamen reassured her. "Markham's mages are a hell of a breed."

"Tch," Ferguson scoffed. "You can say that again."

The crew turned slowly to look at the old man, their faces inquisitive and eyes concerned.

"My wife was a mage from Markham."

"Wife?"

"Was?"

"Mage?"

The group gasped.

"My second wife," he corrected himself.

"Second wife?"

The chatter spread through the crew. And then began the tale of Ferguson and his five wives. Each a story all in their own.

* * *

As Ferguson's stories went from one wife to another, he transitioned to the few days he became a bard, then a Raider, then a thief, and so on and so forth, the crew had grown closer to what appeared to be a well maintained road. The sun was still in the eastern portion of the sky. And as Aeva looked up, they were a few hours shy of mid-day. She looked to Kamen who gave her a comforting smile.

"I'll walk the day with you, at least give me that," he said while no one was listening.

"I'm not going to lie to you Kamen, your life is in danger."

"My life has been in danger the moment I met you, Aeva," he smirked.

Aeva looked to the ground. The wind blew her hair into her face. She looked up, brushing it to the side. There was a time she believed him. When she would dip into his blue eyes like it was a hot summer day. But that was a long time ago. This was no longer the Free Marches she ran when was young girl. And she realized that very quickly as she looked about. The fields had turned to trees. The wall to Markham had been swallowed behind them. There was no one around. And the road was open.

"No," she said to him very sternly. "You could die out here."

Kamen, now stopping completely in the road looking at Aeva with a very laxed expression, took in a large breath of air. He looked from Aeva to Ferguson to the smugglers on horseback. Then he exhaled.

"I appreciate you concern, my dear, but I'm not the one who is going to die."

Just then, an arrow zipped through the trees, piercing one of the crew members on his horse in the chest. With a loud _**thud**_ , he hit the ground, startling the horse and sending it down the road. As it ran by, the two horses hitched to the wagon lurched forward. There was nothing Ferguson could do. He slapped the reins against them, causing them to ninny and take off down the road after the fleeing horse. Aeva was left without cover, but not completely vulnerable. She leapt out at Kamen who blocked her first attack with her metal arm. He had drawn a sturdy blade from his side. She grabbed it firmly, but the blade was too strong to bend. With her other hand, she pulled a dagger from back, but another hidden agent shot from the trees. They were willing to take down the shem with her, but they both pushed off the other to dodge.

The arrows came from all directions. Weapons were drawn, but amid the chaos it was difficult to block. One of the smugglers was wounded on the ground, but there were others in the back of the wagon that remained. Fenris had cut the reins, letting the horse gallop freely while using the wagon for cover. Just then, a terrible gurgling sound came from a nearby tree. A hood figure dropped from it with a loud thud and out came a rushing Iris. She dashed from one tree to another. And just as the group had not perceived the agents, no one had seen her at all.

Using Iris as a distraction, Aeva ran to the body of the agent. She flipped him over but could not tell anything from looking at him directly. She picked up his bow, flung his quiver over her shoulder, and began to aim. Drawing back the arrow with her metal arm, she let loose. It was far more powerful than she imagine and she could hear it whistle across the battlefield into the trees. It made a solid _**thunk**_ as it hit her target. However, the second arrow she pulled back too far, and the string snapped as she had already forgotten her own strength. She threw the bow, frustrated that she would have to now close the gap.

Merrill was crouched next to the smuggler, dragging him closer to the wagon in an attempt to heal him. She stopped mid battle, twirling her staff from her back and calling the branches of the trees. They shook and twisted inward, some of the capturing the stranger within while others were knocked them from their base. Four agents fell to the ground, making a run directly for the wagon. One managed to open the back, finding Baron and the other merchant inside. The merchant squealed, throwing the flask of acid Aeva had give him. The agent let out a scream, bringing his hands to his face and falling backward wreathing in pain. Before the others could reach, Fenris lashed out with his sword, wounding one greatly and just missing the other. The third flipped backward, casting out knives, easily blocked by the great sword in Fenris's hand. The other two saw their advantage, going for his backside. But Iris was there, shoving her body between them and the elven warrior, blocking a few of their attacks. Then Baron came, launching himself from the wagon onto the unsuspecting elves with an axe at hand.

Three more agents dropped from the trees, their bows ready. But the two elves and the rallied dwarf were ready. Just when they prepared to strike, two roots crashed up from the road. The Dalish pariah was finished healing and had covered herself with a skin made of stone. She swung her staff, flames coming from it as the agents backed away. Fenris rushed forward upon their retreat in a series of furious attacks. Baron followed in suite. But Iris was gone once again. Arrows continue to shoot from above, aiming at Merrill in hopes her roots would stop growing. They only clinked off her armor, and she continued to move the roots with hand, while throwing flames with her staff in the other.

Then, it came from the trees. The crashing sound of a heavily armored elf. He burst through, flinging a tree root aside. Merrill stepped back, her concentration broken from the sight of it. It may have been wearing armor and wielding a shield, but its weapon was of magic. It crackled even over the sound of weapons clashing. Fenris turned, hearing the battle cry of a worthy opponent. He looked to Baron.

"I'll take care of this lot," he nodded.

Fenris nodded back, turning on the pads of his feet. He took a few steps forward to meet him, readying his sword. But he was not ready for the impact. The swing was heavy, but that was not the issue. The magical energy coming off the sword vibrated up his arms. He bent his knees and growled deep from his chest. The energy was suddenly neutralized. The elf was starting to glow. He released, pushing up from his legs and pulling the sword in an upward arc. A blast of energy surged from him, causing nearly everyone to look in his direction. Glowing from the eyes, he swung again, this time downward. The arcane sword took the blow, but buzzed loudly as it's strength began to waver. The elf inside the armor would not take it, and stepped back to regain himself. 

Meanwhile, Aeva struck ferociously at Kamen a second time. He laughed, blocking her attempts with his sword. She was at a disadvantage. Her focus was on him, but her back was turned to the remaining archers. She curved their arrows, dashing back and forth while trying to flank her foe. It wasn't working. With a loud battle cry, she reached for one of her flasks. And in a second, she was gone. Kamen froze, looking about as his opponent had completely disappeared without even a hint of smoke. But the elves were far more perceptive than the human. Their eyes scanned the road and they could make out a shimmering figure stealthed in front of them. Their arrows loosened, striking the arm of their attacker and causing her to lose hidden stance. But it was not Aeva. Instead, Iris came at them, her daggers catching them off guard.

Then Aeva appeared, her body aflame. She came down with both her daggers into the back of one of the elves, sending him to the ground with a painful yelp. The other had no chance of survival with both the rogues attack at his sides. With a series of slashes, they tossed him aside. Iris was gone again, a puff of black smoke trailing behind her. Aeva was still on fire, her rage fueling her attacks. She looked over, watching Fenris battle against the arcane warrior. As the flames began to die, she took another flask and hoped it would be enough. Lightning shook through her entire body. And suddenly... the world seemed a bit more peaceful. She rolled her shoulders back, knowing they would ache later. It was always the worst side effect of this flask.

There was a flash as she tore down the road, he sights on the elven warrior. Fenris saw her coming. And in an instant, pulled away as his enemy swung down. The arcane sword buzzed on the ground, causing a large scorch mark. Aeva came from his side, striking upwards at first. She missed as he dodged, and Aeva rolled off the force of her attack. She crouched, swing her leg around and placing it behind her to dash forward again. Fenris attacked from the front, leaving his sides open. But his armor was too heavy. They needed an opening. Aeva sat down her blades, drawing six knives. Three in each hand. One between each finger. With a deep breath and a keen eye, she threw them. They all clattered against his armor, but two managed to loosen his helm.

"Move!" she yelled as she ran forward.

He stepped the side, not quite knowing the plan but trusting her regardless. As the warrior swung down, the magic blade came crashing against her arm. The blow did no damage to the arm itself, but it still clicked as it adjusted to what had hit it. Aeva winced in pain. Fenris stepped forward just as the runes lit up. Three seconds felt eternity as she waited. And then, the explosion came. It was a force of willpower that sent the blade reeling back, dissipating as the warrior lost his spell. She looked up, the final second of her flask wearing off as she watched the helmet fly off slowly. As it clanked onto the ground, Fenris thrust his sword, striking the head of the warrior. And watching it fall to the ground.

Aeva looked back to Kamen, now struck with fear as the agents fell around him. She dashed with one strike, which he was lucky enough to block, but the other two he was not so lucky. One to his side. And one to the back of his knee. He dropped. Aeva rushed him before he could react. His sword fell. And she held him to the tree, a knife to his throat.

"Merrill!" she called out.

With a wave of her staff, the roots from the tree rose to curl around the large man. There was no escaping. And as Aeva turned, she saw the battle had quelled. Her comrades were all still alive. Though some were injured badly. All around them were the scattered bodies of at least ten assassins. Fenris lifted his blade from the elf he had slain, slinging it to the side. He, along with Merrill, began to approach the tree where their captive trembled. Aeva turned her attention back to Kamen.  
"For someone who can't shut up, you're awfully quiet now, Kamen," she twirled her dagger in her hand.

Kamen laughed. "I'm not the one you need to talk to, Aeva. There's a lot of people out there who want you dead."

All four elves heard the whistling sound as it crashed through the trees. It wasn't from the ambush point. It was from somewhere further. A sniper. Fenris was behind Aeva and he knew he had two options. One was to lift his blade to block. But as heavy as it was and as fast as the arrow was moving, he wouldn't make it. Two, he could trust Aeva to dodge it. But her gaze was too focused on Kamen to move. It was in a split second he realized he had a third option. Though he was not fond of it. He lifted his hand inches away from the back Aeva's head. The arrow hit the center of it, entering through his palm and exiting through his knuckles. Aeva's hair shifted forward as the force of the impact created a swift wind. She heard the horrid ripping sound as it did. Fenris lowered his hand, looking down in disbelief. The armor on his gauntlets, the angle of his hand, and the way the he caught the feathers were just enough to stop it. Iris was gone within seconds toward the direction of where it came from.

This only made Aeva angrier. Her dagger was up faster than his tongue could wag. The point of it shave a piece of skin off his neck, leaving it red and raw from it's graze. He was a good foot taller than her, but when it came to skill she had him beat. The strength he carried alone was not enough to defeat her. And he knew that. More than anyone.

" _ **Why**_ did you do this?"

"Because of you," he glared at her.

"You're nothing but a liar," she hissed.

"Like you're one to talk. Eh, _**Viper**_?"

"Shut your mouth," she dug the blade deeper.

"Or what? You'll kill me here? Create another stigma for the elves?"

"You wanted this!"

"Let me tell you the rest of my story," he shifted his shoulders under the roots. "Our business was good, like I said. And when we finally had everything lined up, you know what happened? Word got out that we used to trade with the Lavellans. That those dirty elves who stole Wycome were responsible for our prospering business. The irony in that is pretty funny, don't you think?"

Aeva narrowed her eyes at him.

"No one wants to business your clan. Come to find out some of them are killers and thieves. I wonder how that got out."

"I'll cut your fucking tongue out," her eyes turned from green to pure gold.

"Not until I'm finished," he smiled. "Pa had this idea. He knew if he could talk to the Merchant's Guild, he could clear our name. Get us going again. But they wouldn't even look at our letters until he appealed to them in Kirkwall. So he left. And that's when he got sick."

Aeva remember Kamen's father. He was also a large man with kind eyes. It was all she could remember worth noting about him. All he knew was being a merchant and a father. And that's all she could say. The pity for him sunk into her heart for a moment.

"It started off as just a cough. Must have been from traveling through the rain. It was so cold. And no one was really trusting back then with the war. We were lucky to get any shelter at all. Then he couldn't breathe. Started coughing up blood. Got weak in the knees. I had to carry him, my own father, back to Markham. We asked a healer to see him when we got here, had plenty of coin. But the damage had already been done to his lungs. There was nothing they could do."

"That wasn't my fault," she said through gritted teeth.

" _ **It was your fault**_. Wycome had refused to trade with us," he spat at her. "It was _**your**_ Inquisition who turned us away.

"Shut up."

" _ **Your clan left us with nothing and your Inquisition put us to death**_!"

The blade cut through his skin before he could say anything more. The first bit of blood that left spattered across her face.

"Aeva, no!" Merrill ran forward, dropping the spell and causing Kamen to fall forward onto his knees.

"He's fine," Aeva watched him desperately trying to stop the bleeding. "I didn't cut him deep enough."

At her side, the elven mage began to muttered a spell. She was going to try to heal Kamen. Aeva didn't care. She lowered herself to his level, her eyes square with his as they dimmed back down into their natural green hue. She heard the sputtering in his throat. Her metal hand reached out, grabbing him and tightening the grip on his neck.

"I _**should**_ cut out your tongue."

"Aeva..." Merrill was still there, her hands still shimmering mid-cast.

"I'll cut it out and send it to my father as a reminder why the Lavellan Clan doesn't trust filthy _shems_ like you,."

"Aeva..."

"You're just another example of how everything he touches is tainted."

"Aeva!"

The hand unclenched and Kamen lost his balance. He was sent straight to the ground. Merrill was lucky to cast her spell as she let go of his neck. The blood stopped, but he was still in serious condition. If the wound wasn't covered, he would likely risk infection. Aeva cared nothing of him anymore. She turned, brushing past Fenris as she made her way back to the caravan. As the silence fell between everyone, the sound of hooves echoed from the distance. Ferguson had managed to come back with the wagon and one of the missing horses.

"Well, this is a sodding mess," he looked across the road.

Fenris took the stray horse, grazing his hand across his nose to calm him down. The horse trotted a few times, but followed him to the other wagon. The smuggler who was standing sat his weapon down to help. Ferguson ran his hand through his air.

"We should leave before someone finds these bodies," Ferguson said.

"No," Aeva stated firmly, stopping in her path. "We bury them."

"That will take all night."

"Then I'll bury them and you can go ahead."

Ferguson sighed watching her retreat to the back of the supply wagon. "Gotta repair the wagons anyway..."  
  



	12. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Withe battle won and the part exhausted, they must decide how to move forward.

It would have taken two days to bury all the bodies of the fallen elves. But Aeva was not alone. There were two spades in the back of the supply wagon. She took one. And Iris took the other. They found a clearing not far from the road, about a mile into the wood. And they began to dig. In that moment, Aeva was thankful that Iris was not a woman of many words. The two had not been shoveling long when Merrill appeared. Her eyes were wide with worry.

"Not all of them were Dalish," she said.

"No," Aeva looked at her firmly. "But they were elves."

Merrill simply nodded, coming closer to where the two were digging. She began to work magic, moving the earth around her. She was much faster with her spells than they were with the spades. Still, they worked tirelessly with sweat pouring from their brows. Their hands covered in dirt. Their hearts heavy for the dead.

Back at the wagons, Ferguson, Baron and the two smugglers were working on repairing the wagons. Fenris, however, searched the bodies of those who were slain. He took what they no longer needed, throwing it in a pile next to the wagons. But he left them with their armor and weapons. When the women were ready, they came out of the forest. And with a solemn nod, the men helped them prep the bodies.

"You don't have to help," Aeva said to Iris as she watched her pick up a cloth.

Iris looked down at the body in front of her then back to Aeva. "My mother was Dalish."

And that was all she said.

They didn't have much, but what they had was enough to prepare for a funeral. Aeva, Iris, and Merrill took the time to clean most of the blood from their faces. They then carried them to the clearing where graves were dug in a circle. Each body went into it's own grave. And once it was there, they would cover it with dirt. Merrill had prepared sproutlings for each grave, all still bearing a bit of green.

"I don't know if they'll last the winter," she said, patting her hands around a mound she made. "But I've done what I can to encourage their survival."

"Thank you," Aeva said quietly.

The sun was hovering on the horizon. The humans went back to the caravan, feeling as if they were intruding on something very personal and very private. Fenris lingered, not taking part in the ritual. But stay close to watch. Merrill had found an oak tree nearby. It was no staff. But it would have to work. In the middle of the circle, she dug a small hole into the ground with her hands. When she did, several of the trees around them shuttered. Fenris stepped away from the tree he leaned against, feeling some sort of chill coming from it.

"Falon'Din. Friend to the dead. Guide my feet. Calm my soul. Lead me to my rest... _enasal enaste_."

Merrill slammed the oaken branch into the hole. A burst of light came through the top, shattering into hundreds of little flecks. They shimmered in the air like fireflies and floated down gracefully to the mounds of dirt below.

"Their souls will be thankful when they find your light to greet him," she said, placing a soft hand on Aeva's shoulder. "You did not have to do this."

"It wasn't their fault," she looked at all their graves. "They were used. Just as I was used."

Merrill gave her a pat, though it wasn't much comfort, and followed the humans to the wagons. Iris was behind her, half smiling at Aeva as she passed. And though she wanted to trail behind them, she felt she could not. Her feet felt heavy. Her mind began to race again, her own thoughts mixed with the quiet chatter in her head. It was getting worse. Just like it did before. But she wouldn't let it win this time. So she took a deep breath, clenching her fists. She remembered what Dorian had told her. She needed to find a good happy place. A place more powerful in her mind where she could control the noise.

* * *

_It had been months since Aeva had returned to the main camp. But the whistling birds of spring drew her out from the cavern and into the wild. She had an urge to run. And they often say, if you let your feet guide you, they'll always point you to things you love most. So Aeva found herself outside Falarah's tent. She could hear them inside. The mother was speaking sternly while the daughter complained loudly. Aeva carefully lifted the flap of the tent, it already being folded slightly to the side. She smiled as she observed the maiden mixing with her pestle and mortar. The child was casually sifting through the basket of flowers next to her, smelling each one as she pulled it out._

_"Oh, Dani," she said from the opening._

_The child spun around at the sound of her voice. She sprung up onto her feet, knocking the basket over and sending the flowers and their petals all about the tent. Falarah swore under her breath, but was just as excited to see Aeva._

_"I've come to steal you away," she said to her little sister._

_"I'll gladly go without a fight," Dani crossed her arms._

_"Take her," Falarah waved. "Please take her."_

_Aeva laughed, cupping her sister's cheeks into her hands and kissing her atop her forehead._

_"Not so fast," her hands remained firm. "How are your studies?"_

_"Good," she replied with a smooshed face._

_"Just barely," Falarah retorted, gathering the flowers on the ground._

_"Want to show me what you've learned?"_

_"Uh, no," Falarah interrupted._

_"Let me show her, mum," Dani pleaded._

_"Absolutely not," she crossed her arms._

_"It's alright, Falarah. I know just the place where she can practice. I'll keep an eye on her."_

_Falarah sighed. "I can't say no to you. I just can't. Alright, then. Don't take her too far into the forest. The Veil is too thin there."_

_"Don't worry. We won't be going far!"_

_Danrayel tugged at Aeva's cloak, pulling her out the door. "Come on, then! I want to show you how I can make the flowers bloom!"_

* * *

And all. Fell. Silent.

"Aeva."  
Except for the impatient Fenris who had been waiting for her to regain her senses.

"We should get back to the caravan."

"Yeah," Aeva nodded, wiping the tears from her face before he could see them. "Let's get on with it."

When she returned to the wagons with Fenris, she found the rest of her comrades surrounding a very bloodied, unconscious, tied up Kamen.

"We can't let him live," one of the smugglers stated. "He could call for more help. He could go to the guard. Everything he does, it will be against us."

"We can't take him with us either," Ferguson grumbled. "We already have limited supplies. Especially now. Only one spare horse. He'll just weigh us down. I mean, look at the man."

Aeva pushed them to get by, kicking Kamen's body over to it's side and standing over him. She gave him a good series of smacks to his face. His eyes blinked quickly before he gained his wits. The first sight was of Aeva. And he immediately began to breathe heavily under the cloth covering his mouth.

"Are you going to scream?"

Kamen shook his head furiously. She cut the cloth.

"You have a couple options," she said, squatting over him to where she was sitting on his side. "We either kill you so you don't talk. Or we let you go... and you don't talk."

Kamen opened his mouth and tried to speak. But all that came out was the sound of a quiet rasping series of breaths.

"Oh look at that," she tilted her head to the side. "Looks like he can't talk anyway."

"He can still write letters," Ferguson crossed his arms.

"Then take his fingers."

Kamen made the shape of "no" with his mouth over and over with wide eyes. Fenris chuckled a few feet away. Aeva thought for a moment and turned to Ferguson.

"We have reinforcements headed this way?"

"Haven't gotten a raven yet, but sure."

"Good," she spun back around to face Ferguson. "The Bright Belle Inn. Do you know it?"

He nodded.

"Give it week or so and you'll received word from the inn. A couple of soldiers will be there to escort a few men to Kirkwall. You'll join them."

Kamen opened his mouth. But again. Nothing.

"You'll go. And you'll write everything down. Everything that happened. You'll tell Viscount Tethras your crimes. Maybe he'll pity you enough to send the Merchant's Guild to help your father. I'm sure he'll be proud when he's heard what you've done."  
Aeva grabbed one of her throwing blades to cut his bindings. He was free, but he didn't move as she still sat atop him. She pointed the blade to him.

"If I get wind that you never reached Kirkwall... I'll come back here. And I'll kill you."

* * *

Several hours had passed since the elves were laid to rest. The caravan had packed up their things, did the best the best they could to clean the surrounding area, and began to head north to where Aeva had mentioned there was an old camping ground. Luckily, only a few travelers had passed by as they repaired their wagons. With a few persuading tales from Ferguson, they were gone. And rather quickly at the mention of bandits. Soon, without any further interruptions, they were able to steady the carts enough to move forward.

Merrill had decide to sit in the back of the wagon, unraveling the mirror to check it quickly for cracks. She tucked the sheet back around safely, calling to one of the smugglers to help her tie the ropes back around it. She enchanted the ropes and the sheet once more to ensure it's closure. The smuggler remained in the back with her. And the merchant sat with his back against the far side, staring off into space as if he had watched all his poor life choices flash before his eyes.

Clearly, they were all like that. It didn't help it was early in the night. They were all tired, and at the same time restless. None of them knew the path except for Aeva. And some even questioned that she was leading them the right way. They had lost three of their men. One of their horses. And some of their supplies. But there was still enough drive in them all to continue.

Soon, the trees opened up into a large field. It was the one Aeva had described. The field of flowers. Even seeing it in the dark during the autumn was enough for her memories to come flooding back. Some of them making her smile while others... made her feel regret. Nevertheless, it was a matter of minutes before she found the grooves in the dirt where the aravels passed through. And the others followed her to a treeline that was thin enough for them to camp under. It was the same treeline Aeva used to sleep under.

The moon was high enough in the sky to illuminate their dwellings, even without the use of lanterns. Though of course, those were swinging about as well. Feet drug heavily as the campfire went up quickly with Merrill's aid and Iris tended to the pot of stew relentlessly, desperate for something to eat. As were they all. To bide their time, they set up camp. And before some could even smell what was cooking, their heads fell into dreams hoping to be better than the day they had.

Fenris had just set up his tent when he decided it was time to tend to the wound in his hand. He managed to break off both ends of the arrow, but had not completely removed it. There was the matter of his gauntlet as well. Merrill had suggested to use her pack to look for healing supplies, but since he was too stubborn to accept her thoughtfulness, he declined. So there he sat with a bottle of liquor, provided by Ferguson who hated wine, and a roll of cloth bandages. He started his battle by removing the lid to the liquor and taking a rather hefty swig. The next step was to remove the gauntlet. In which case, he thought would be best by pulling on the finger tips. It proved to be quite difficult as his other gauntlet, which was still on, was hindering the removal.

"What are you doing?" Aeva said from across the fire.

She was laying on the ground, her back propped against the crate and her bare feet warming up by the fire. Fenris replied by raising his hand and looking about him as a gesture to his idea of bandaging himself. Aeva chuckled, shifting onto her feet. She walked over to her tent where she grabbed her leather pack. Then made her way to his side of the fire.

"You were, what, just going to wrap it with that," she nodded to the bandages.

"Just as you would any other wound."

Aeva looked at his hand, a grimace forming on her face as she did so.

"No," she shook her head. "We're going to need something potent."

"I can do my own stitches," he said as she rummaged through her pack.

"On your own hand?" she laughed. "Forget it. Besides, where your wound is located, we won't be able to do stitches. We'll just have to wrap it tight."

He kept attempting to pull off his gauntlet as she pulled out a small metal tine. The lid opened with a popping sound and the smell of herbs came with it. The contents were of a thick gel with a slightly greenish hue. And the smell was actually making him feel relaxed. She sat it aside.

"This will be the hard part," she said, handing him the bottle of liquor.

Fenris took the bottle by the neck, lifting it to his lips and taking another drink. As the liquid entered his mouth, she had taken the gauntlet and ripped it off. He inhaled quickly, feeling the pain from the tips of fingers to the back of his shoulder as the inside of his glove grazed the wound. But he was not about to spit out Ferguson's fine spirits, nor was he about to spew it all over Aeva. So he held it in his cheeks, looked at her in fury, and swallowed it hard as it burned the back of his throat.

"Step two," she said casually as she reached her metal hand out.

Fenris hesitated, wondering if he would get the same sensation from the touch of her metal as he would with her skin. But as he lay it down into the palm of it, he felt hardly anything at all other than the throbbing of the arrow wound. He lifted the other gauntlet up, grabbing the leather part on the fingers by his teeth and pulling. Aeva rose his hand closer to get a better look, setting it down for a moment to get something else out of her pack. The other gauntlet slid with a bit of difficulty, but it he dropped it from his mouth to his side just in time to see Aeva pull out a pair of long metal tweezers.

"I lied," she clicked them together. "This will be the hard part."

With a sigh, Fenris picked the bottle up again with his free hand.

"Sadist..."

He raised it to Aeva, pausing for a moment to stare her in the eye before he closed them to take another, but larger, drink. Aeva's sight was nearly perfect, especially in the dark of night. Her reflexes were even better. And she clamped down at the end of the broken wood and pulled it out. Thankfully, it was with the grain so there would be no remaining splinters. Again, Fenris swallowed, slowly this time, and glared at his companion. She smiled wickedly at him.

"I suppose I should thank you," she leaned over to look for something, his hand still in her metal grasp. "If you hadn't caught the arrow, it would have ended me."

"Why didn't you move?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said honestly, reaching into her bag for a clean cloth. "I suppose something knew to trust you."

"Strange," he said.

Aeva pulled out a cloth and began to dab at the blood around Fenris's palm. She pushed it onto the wound, which was now bleeding, and held it there with the thumb of her metal hand. She pulled her bag closer so she could dig further, her fingers searching for another cloth.

"Indeed," Aeva agreed to him after a brief pause. "But I've learned that not everything strange is necessarily that bad."

He watched as she used the other cloth to continue to clean his hand. By the time she was done, the bleeding had slowed. She removed the blood filled cloth with the cleaner one, pressing down again as she reached for the tin of gel. She stuck two fingers into it, scooping a generous amount. Before lifting the cloth, she glanced up to him to check his well being. And Fenris was looking down, his face softened. In a way she had seen before. It felt accepting, as if there were a part of her that he adored. Aeva smirked before taking her attention back to his wound. She quickly wiped it to the side as gently as she could and replaced it with a thick coat of the gel. It felt warm when it hit his skin. Aeva then began to spread the gel, making sure she covered the opening on both sides. She flipped it over to add another layer to the exit around his knuckles. When that was finished, she rotated it again to examine the entry, putting another smaller coat over it and bringing it to her face. A smile had appeared.

"What is it?" he asked.

Aeva lowered his hand, still spreading the gel over the wound.

"It's funny, really," she said. "With those gauntlets you have, I almost expected something like claws. But no... they're just... hands."

Fenris felt his eyes fall over the entirety of her face. Her beauty was easily lost in her hardened nature. The woman gave such a commanding presence, it was difficult to think of her in any other way. Though, even then, when she stood against many, there was something about her fortitude that made him see through her. During the battle, he could not help but see the movements with grace and elegance. Her hands were quick and deadly. But when his were resting in them, he only felt peace.  
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," he said, his voice dropping low to where only she could hear.

Aeva looked up, her eyes reflecting off of his, the glint of the flame in the corners of them. Her thumb moved to the space between the palm and the wrist, massaging as she moved around his hand. Feeling a heat come over her that was nothing like the fire, she looked back down, watching her hand and looking at his. Then to his wrist. And to his half exposed forearm. She saw the tattoos. And as she scanned over them, she absent mindedly began to trace his hand with finger tips, somehow missing his wound entirely. Fenris watched curiously has her fingers wandered down his middle finger, across his palm, to his wrist, slowly creeping up his forearm. She stopped, lifting her hand slightly in hesitation, before bringing them down onto the markings.

Fenris brought his free hand to hers, careful not to grasp it tightly. Sometimes, the markings brought pain through touch. And though he felt none at that moment, he did not want to ruin her caress. Instead, he tangled her fingers into his own, looking intently into her eyes as she looked back up in response. Her mouth opened slightly. And just when he thought the moment would be right, she spoke.

"I need to wrap this," she said bluntly, her fingers still intertwined with his.

He stopped for a moment, looking down at his hand, still bleeding a bit in her metal one.

"Right," he nodded. "You should... wrap that."

Aeva pulled back, taking her hand with her. Fenris straightened himself as well, not realizing how far he was leaning forward. There were many excuses that crossed their minds as Aeva quietly wrapped his hand. That the campfire had placed a spell over them. That the sleepy night had made them vulnerable. That the moon above had struck them with lovesickness. But there was only one thing that they both thought in agreement, though it would never be said outloud. And that... was how they felt... in that moment...


	13. UPDATE!

Henlo everybody!

So I haven't posted anything in awhile. And I just wanted to update some folks about what's going on.

I'm taking a little break from Strange Fates, and kind of just Dragon Age in general, to play some other games. I don't want to get burned out on Dragon Age. And I was pumping out chapters for this pretty fast. So don't worry! I'm coming back to it. I also want to read over and do some editing to make the writing better. I realized I was just hastily throwing out chapters. I'll be going through and redoing some the story just to make it flow a bit better.

In the mean time, I'll be playing Pillars of Eternity. And possibly writing some fic for that.

If you have questions, comments, notice any errors, think a sentence sounds funny, have any ideas, or even just wanna talk, feel free to message me!

I also have a tumblr account where I post about Dragon Age, talk about myself, give little update, and just talk about RPG's in general. It's a hate free blog, so don't have to worry about any character bashing or drama.

<https://dragonswithjetpacks.tumblr.com/>

Click on the Characters link on the right menu, and you can see Aeva!

Also don't forget to check out the Character Sheet I've posted here on Ao3 for Artbreeder portraits of our favorite and maybe not so favorite characters!


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